


You're mine.

by ro_shepard



Series: You're Mine [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 90s slow jams, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Bucky Finds His Groove, Choking, Crying, Did this turn into a song fic, Dirty Talk, Dom Steve Rogers, Dominance, F/M, Fainting, Female Character of Color, Fondling, I Don't Even Know, Jealousy, Loss of Control, Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV Character of Color, Possessive Behavior, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam's Music Lessons, Shy Bucky Barnes, Spanking, Squirting, Steve has a mouth on him, Steve is an Asshole, Vaginal Fingering, music therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:47:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22138027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ro_shepard/pseuds/ro_shepard
Summary: Bucky Barnes likes you. If it were any other time in your life, you would have been thrilled. Who wouldn't want a chance with the smoldering super soldier? However, your life was... complicated.You're not quite sure how it happened, but somehow, almost a year ago, you captured the attention of the handsome, yet imposing Captain Rogers.Your life hadn't been your own since.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, Sam Wilson (Marvel) & Reader, Sharon Carter & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: You're Mine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786333
Comments: 44
Kudos: 116





	1. The lunch room.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written a story and this is my first away from Bioware characters. Please forgive any grammatical errors. I'm not a professional writer, just a daydreamer.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (Covers by me.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a new admirer.

"Hey man, isn't that her?" 

Bucky felt the kick to his foot and lifted his gaze from the colorful vegetables on his plate.

It was her, or rather _you,_ tastefully dressed in a simple, cowled sweater dress, with leggings and a pair of pair of boots. Despite working in the Tower and heading one of Stark's local non-profits, you seemed to appreciate a simple style - opting for practicality and comfort over the flash and affluence that many of the other directors displayed.

It was your unfettered humility that had caught his attention.

And, your big, brown eyes. 

Sam smirked as the quiet super soldier's face morphed from complete boredom in the previous topic of conversation to that of absolute attentiveness. He leaned slightly across the small table, "You should ask her out man."

Bucky's lips parted slightly, his crystal eyes following you with unexpressed admiration. You had changed your hair again, the natural curls of your thick, dark hair, now encased in an arrangement of braids that fell down to the middle of your back. You looked even more beautiful, if that were even possible. He swallowed hard, the palm of his flesh hand tingling with nerves as he watched you, hummus wrap and bottled tea in hand as you stood in the cafe's check out line.

"I... I don't know Sam. I mean, the last time I tried to talk to her I couldn't even formulate a proper sentence."

"It _was_ pretty bad, Buck," the third man at the table uttered, glancing up from the report he'd been reading. 

Sam tilted his head at the man seated to his left, "Really? Shit from _you_ , Steve?" He'd have belted out ironic laugh if he wasn't in a hurry to help Bucky, before another opportunity passed him by. "That was months ago. We all get tongue-tied around a pretty face, Barnes, but she didn't exactly run away," Sam added. 

Steve picked up his glass of water and took a small sip, "No, she didn't run," he began as he lazily set the glass back down. He shifted his eyes from his oldest friend to the women across the room, "but she didn't exactly look thrilled either. In fact, she looked _nervous_."

Sam rolled his eyes, "So helpful, man. Thanks." 

Bucky sighed, "I appreciate you helping me Sam, I do, but-"

"Ah-tut-tut!" Sam interrupted, "No excuses. She has to walk by us to leave. When she does, you say hello, start a conversation and I'll drag Captain Encouragement here away. That's when you ask her out for coffee."

Steve shook his head, casting his eyes back down to the papers in hand. He was glad to see his friend easing back into the world, especially after his rehabilitation in Wakanda. He was thrilled when Bucky told him about a woman who had caught his interest. He was quite surprised to find out that it was _you_. 

"What am I supposed to say, Sam?" Bucky asked in a panic. He unconsciously straightened in his seat as he noticed you finishing up your transaction.

"Ask how her day is going, ask about the event Stark has her planning, _anything_ Barnes. Damn, I thought you were the smooth one?!" Sam whispered sternly. He ignored the chuckle from the man next to him, "Here she comes!" 

In that split-second, Bucky made a decision. He shook his head firmly and turned his attention back to his food. He barely heard the huff of disappointment before Sam spoke again.

"(Y/n)!"

The fingers of Bucky's bionic arm flexed, bending the metal fork in his hand as a heat flushed through his body. He could have strangled Sam if you weren't already making your approach. He picked up the faint scent of your warm, smoky vanilla fragrance and briefly sucked the corner of his bottom lip into his mouth. 

He'd never beheld a more radiant smile.

* * *

"(Y/n)!"

You turned your head over to the cluster of small tables as you headed for the exit and beamed at the sight of Sam Wilson. While you rarely interacted with the Tower's more famous inhabitants, you enjoyed your run-ins with the Falcon. Sam was down to earth, genuine, and he always seemed to put you in a better mood no matter what kind of day you were having. You waved to him, intending to head back to your office, only to see him beckoning you over to him. He was not alone.

"Good afternoon Sam," you said warmly, "Captain Rogers. Sergeant Barnes." You were always more formal with the two super soldiers. 

Steve's eyes rose from his reading to meet yours, "Good afternoon, Ms. (Y/l/n)," he returned. His lips turned into a small, polite grin. His ocean eyes lingered before he returned his attention back to his work. 

Bucky took a breath. "Ms. (Y/l/n)," Bucky managed, looking up with his smoldering blues. "And, it's James," he offered to you, "please."

You were surprised at the gesture of kindness from a man who never seemed to be much of a conversationalist the few times you've been around him. "Of course, _James,_ " you said, giving a small, friendly smile. The way the elite soldier's name rolled off your tongue seemed to please him and you noticed how he perked up at the sound of it. 

You missed the slight tick in the jaw of one of other table's inhabitants.

Sam nodded slightly in approval. "(Y/n), I know Stark has you locked down for his event, but I noticed that the cafe was pretty full today. Steve and I are about to leave if you need a place to sit. I'm sure _James_ here won't mind." He stood and tapped at the captain's shoulder.

It was sweet, it really was, seeing the Falcon acting as a literal wingman for his friend was touching. And, it wasn't like you were blind. Bucky was attractive - an excellent depiction of tall, dark, and handsome. If it were any other time in your life, you'd have been thrilled at the opportunity. It's just that now, things in your life were... complicated.

Steve's chair slid back and he stood, finally being coaxed by Sam's jabbing fingers. As he rose to his full height, no one noticed the way his eyes traveled intently from your own down to your mouth. The act was brazen and your lips parted in slight disbelief. He cocked a golden brow and you cut your eyes away, hoping the heat of his stare wasn't coloring your tawny cheeks.

"I... thank you, Sam, but I really should get back," you stammered nervously, "I have to make a few calls."

"It's alright, (Y/n)," Bucky said, standing up as he smoothed his palms alongside his torso. "I know I'm not as entertaining as Sam here." You noted the brief shadow of disappointment on Bucky's face as he tried to poke fun at himself.

"I doubt that's true, James," you said softly, "it's always nice to see you." Bucky nodded your way and gathered the remainder of his lunch.

"Don't let Stark work you to death. You let me know if you need a break, okay?" Sam said, gathering up his own stuff. 

You laughed, "Thank you, Sam. Take care of yourself. Captain," you finished with a tilt of your head, not chancing a look to the latter. You heard Steve bid you farewell as you put some distance between you and the three Avengers.

When you reached your office, you released the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

* * *

"Well, that was better than last time," Sam said, entering the elevator to the Avengers suite. "Smooth with the first name, _James_. I was impressed."

Bucky leaned his head against the glass window, "She's not interested Sam. This was the second time I made her run away. I may be over 100 years old, but I can take a hint." 

"I'm not buying it," Sam countered. "Didn't you see the way she smiled at you in the beginning? She's obviously..."

Steve was silent as he settled into the back corner of the lift, tuning out his two friends. He pulled out his phone and began to type away at the buttons with a smirk. Soon after, he slipped his phone back into his front pocket and slapped a supporting hand onto Bucky's shoulder. 

"Chin up, Buck. Sam's right, it did go better than last time."

* * *

Your phone buzzed on your desk as you finally settled down to eat your lunch. Two new text messages.

**Seems like you've forgotten who you belong to.**

**7pm. Wear the red set. It's my favorite.**

Suddenly, you weren't very hungry anymore.


	2. The gym.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You recall your situation with Steve and decide to ignore him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this - what is now looking to be three chapters. The ideas for this story morphed out of control and it took me down many rabbit holes. I'm hoping to turn some of those unused ideas into other stories in the future. But for now, please enjoy some backstory.

Your hand reached between your knees to twist the knob of your bike, increasing the resistance. Your raised your hips, lifting yourself from your seat and funneled your brewing frustration at the simulated hill. Gym therapy was the best kind of therapy. With a puff of heated air, you glanced over the bridge of your nose, up to the clock at the far side of the room.

A quarter 'til seven.

The captain would be knocking soon, always punctual, whether on or off duty. At least he was respectful in that regard. He would arrive, his footsteps heavy and determined as he angled his broad form into your home. His energy would transform the space immediately. It always did.

He would take off his leather jacket with a confident flourish and drape it over the back of your plush, tufted chair. Those come-hither, steely blue eyes would be on you, slowly raking over your body, his subtle smirk hinting at the mischief to come.

A visit like this from Steve Rogers would be the dream of millions, and if you were being completely honest, initially it had be yours. 

You couldn't believe it really, when America's golden-boy discreetly asked for your number almost a year ago, especially when the entire Tower knew that he was pretty cozy with a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

When you questioned him about this, during his first visit to your home, he shrugged and leaned into you, "There's nothing going on with Agent Carter," he confessed against the column of your neck.

"Then why...?" You started, but paused to lick your lips, the nips at your shoulder making it difficult to concentrate. "I've seen you both in the halls. The touching and flirty glances. That doesn't seem like _nothing_ Captain Rogers." 

Steve chuckled and lifted his head to peer into your dark eyes. "Are you jealous, Y/n? It's a bit early for that, don't you think?" The pads of his fingers teased over the skin of your stomach as he fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

You gasped at the contact and clamped your hand over his wrist, stopping his progress. "Don't. I'm not a side piece, Captain."

"Shhh," Steve dismissed leaning in to nuzzle your cheek. "Forget about Sharon. She's just to keep up appearances, or whatever marketing says. Let's just enjoy this, Y/n," he said before proceeding to kiss the red-laced panties off you. He didn't linger afterward.

You peddled faster, your focus not on the rhythmic beat, but on your quiet acquaintance with Steve Rogers - the insufferable, arrogant, heartbreaker Steve Rogers.

You understood the need for media appeal and a carefully constructed public image, so you relented to your secret dalliances with Steve Rogers. They were fiery and passionate, and he always left you physically satiated and deliciously sore the next day; however, being hidden away was started to take its toll after a the first two months.

Steve had no problems acknowledging you in the bedroom, which always yours, mind you, but he was quick no longer show any regard if he saw you in the Tower. Not even as much as a friendly conversation to indicate him having any sort of presence in your life. All this, while in those same Tower halls, Captain America openly lived the lie of only having eyes for Sharon Carter.

Even his close friends, the Falcon - Sam, as you knew him - and the quiet Sergeant, seemed to be oblivious to your association with Steve. 

Yet, you allowed the duality of this arrangement and it dragged on. Four months. Six. Eight. Steve never allowed for conversation about a relationship or for clarity as to what you were to him. It was always, "Come on, Y/n. I know you enjoy this as much as I do. Let's not complicate things." And, as Steve Rogers continued to orchestrate your body in ways never before imaginable, you continued to settle for the shadows, despite your growing emotional attachment. 

You met your limit about a month ago. In a post-coital haze, Steve had pulled your back against his bare chest and draped a thick arm around your stomach. As his thumb flicked aimlessly over a taunt, still-too-sensitive nipple, he whispered sweet murmurings in your ear - the soft musing of a satisfied lover. It was too much and you found yourself fighting back tears as your heart clenched in your chest. You tensed in his embrace and pulled away.

Steve picked up on your quiet gasps, the blissful fog lifting as he brought a hand up to run through his hair. He fucked up; warm embraces were not supposed to happen. Feelings were not supposed to happen. This was an arrangement of fun and indulgence he had continued to tell himself, but you had felt so good there, lying in his arms. Like you belonged there, filling a void he had refused to accept. 

"Y/n," he began with a hesitant voice.

"I can't do this anymore, Steve. I-I deserve more than this."

You turned your attention toward the rustling behind you and watched as Steve pulled on his clothes. He sighed as he stood up from your bed, arranging his belt, "Yeah, you do, Y/n."

"What?" You asked, sitting up and pulling a sheet over yourself. 

"Y/n, you are - I never meant -" Steve was tripping over what he was wanting to say, "you do deserve more than this," Steve agreed. "More than I can give you." 

You scoffed, "Really, Steve? That's the line you're going to give me after a year? You used me Steve!"

Steve's brow furrowed, "I don't recall you having any objections when I'm buried between your legs, Y/n. You used me too." 

You frowned, gathering up the fabric around you and moved to stand in front of the super soldier, poking a slender finger at his chest, "You pursued _me,_ Steve. Stop dancing around this and admit it. I'm good enough to get you off, but not good enough for any acknowledgement outside of my bedroom. I don't fit whatever narrative it is that you're trying to portray, so you keep me as some dirty secret!" 

Those crystal eyes widened a bit, betraying a glimpse of fondness as Steve's eyes roamed over the expanse of your soft, brown shoulders. He lifted his gaze back to your eyes - dark and volatile. He had never seen you so fired up and a part of him cringed in knowing that his own selfishness was responsible. But, he had made no promises to you and had been upfront about your dalliances being purely physical. His life was not suited for a civilian relationship.

So why was he feeling so remorseful?

Unless he cared about you. His jaw tensed as he contemplated the remaining options. He had to sever whatever emotional attachment he had for you - even if it was the coward's way out. You deserved better. 

"You talk like we're in a relationship, Y/n. We're not together. We never were," Steve uttered, his demeanor was as cold as his words cut through the tension in the air. He brushed past you, making his way to your front door.

You blinked, taken aback by the captain's icy tone. Your heart shattering in your chest as you stared up into his hard, chiseled face. You wouldn't let him see you cry and your stroke would be the last of the evening. 

"I'm sorry I couldn't be _marketable_ for you, Captain," the words were thick on your tongue as you fought to keep your composure. 

You and Steve had not spoken since that night. 

Today had been the first time you had peered into those deep blues. You could have done without seeing Steve again entirely, but Sam had been so excitedly waving you over that it would have caused more of a scene to avoid him. 

Then, there was Sergeant Barnes who always looked like a lost puppy the two times you had spoken with him. It was flattering really, even under the unimpressed gaze of the golden captain. For someone who had no interest in a relationship with you, Steve certainly seemed to struggle with you being fawned over - especially by a friend. Steve's text to you cemented your suspicion - he was jealous. However, unlike Steve, you would not use Bucky to indulge. You were not that way and Bucky - _James_ \- genuinely seemed like a nice guy. 

As for Steve, you decided that he could take his text and shove it. You would not be home this time when he knocked. You would not cave to his command or control. He had made his decision and you had made yours - even if that meant ignoring a booty call from Captain America himself.

"Five minute cool down, everyone, then we stretch!" your instructor shouted, bringing your awareness back to the Tower's fitness center. Time had slipped away from you and it was already five after the hour. After your stretches, you would gather up your braided locks and sit in the hot tub to loosen your muscles. Then, a shower. Hell, maybe you would hit the weights again. You would take as much time as you needed in order to get your point across. 

***

It was almost nine by the time you hoisted your laptop bag over your shoulder. You had ran up to your office one last time to gather what you needed for the weekend. It was quiet for a Friday night, and you savored the peace as you rode the elevator down to the lobby. You were definitely going to pick up some Thai on the way home. You pulled your phone out of your coat pocket to place your order. 

"Y/n? Working late?"

You glanced up to see Sam and Bucky standing by the lobby doors. They were both handsomely dressed in dark slim jeans and warm, wool sweaters. 

"Ah, you know, Sam. No rest for the weary," you said with a friendly smile. "I could ask the same of you both, but you two look like you're about to get into some trouble. Enjoy your night." You adjusted the bags on your shoulder and moved toward the glass doors. 

"Actually," Bucky cut in, "we're about to go down to Murphy's for something to eat. Care to join us?" 

You lifted a brow at Sam and he offered a little shrug. It was an innocent enough invitation, but your thoughts quickly shifted to Steve, who you knew wouldn't take kindly if he ever found out about such an outing, even if you were no longer rendezvous-ing. "I-I'm not sure-"

"Come on, Y/n, it'll be out treat. Besides, you can be the buffer between me and this guy's terrible jokes," Bucky said, giving Sam a playful swat on the shoulder. 

Your eyes shifted between them with a sigh, you relented, "Alright. I'll stay for _one_ drink. Let me just run my things back upstairs."

***

One drink quickly turned into two and you could not recall a time in your life when you laughed more.

Sam was in his element, eagerly telling as many embarrassing stories as he could about the surprisingly funny sergeant. James had caught you off guard, seemingly more relaxed than he had been at lunch time. You were seeing a whole new side to him and you found your cheeks warming whenever he laughed heartily at one of Sam's quips. He was attractive, even in the dimmed light of the homy Irish pub, the twinkle of his sapphire eyes made you shiver, especially when they would land shyly on you. 

"Uh oh, Barnes," Sam said suddenly, poking at his phone. He chuckled a bit as he typed into his phone.

"What is it?" Bucky asked. "Stark calling us in for something?" 

You smiled and quietly thanked the server who placed another round at your table. 

"Nah," Sam's dark eyes glittered from the light of his screen. He finished up his message and placed his phone back onto the table. "It's Rogers. Sounds like his plans got cancelled and he wanted to know where we were. He'll be here in a sec."

Bucky snorted a laugh and shook his head, drawing his bottle to his lips. "That's what that punk gets for ribbing me earlier."

"Sorry, Y/n," Sam offered, "I hope you don't mind..." 

You couldn't hear the rest of what Sam was saying. The bell over the wooden door chimed and your eyes fell to the front of the restaurant. An imposing tall, blond man entered, cheeks blushed from the crisp fall air. The breath escaped your lungs as you followed his stare across tables. When he spotted you a dangerous smirk adorned his handsome face. He shrugged out of his worn, leather jacket as he neared.

"Well, seems like I've been missing out on a good time," Steve sank down into the empty seat across from you, "What did I miss?" He asked, motioning for the server.

Bucky tilted his head to Sam, across from him, "This guy was just telling Y/n about the time we were holed up in Lima and how we stood out like sore thumbs."

You looked at your phone, hoping to use that as an excuse to leave. You didn't want to play Steve's game and you certainly didn't want to stare at him all night. "It is getting late."

"Oh, don't leave on count of me. I didn't mean to intrude," Steve eyed you carefully. "Besides, it looks like you all just ordered a new round. _Stay_. I promise I won't ruin the punchline to any of Sam's jokes."

Your teeth raked across your bottom lip and decided against making the undisclosed situation any worse. 

"Fair enough, Captain," you agreed and turned your attention back to Sam, "So how did you make it out of the mountains without speaking Quechua?" 

Sam and Bucky eagerly jumped back into their story. Happy that you stayed. Steve was not listening. As he watched Bucky lean in closer to you, he casually sipped his beer, mapping out how the rest of the night would go, now that he had you in his sights. After your failed attempt to avoid him.

There would be begging, that would be certain, but he couldn't decide if that would involve you begging him to stop or begging him for more.

Perhaps both.


	3. The pub.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealous Steve doesn't like being stood up.

You don't know how it got to be so late, perhaps it was the numerous rounds of beer or the ease of conversation, but it was nearly eleven. This was the latest you had stayed out in quite a while.

You did have it in mind to switch out your alcohol for seltzer and lime about an hour ago. Two drinks was your limit and you had every intention of not needing a cab to pick you up from the Tower. You were tired. It had been a long week of choosing the wardrobe and decor for your boss' event. While you were thrilled that Tony Stark had entrusted you with planning this charity event, you were looking forward to putting it behind you in a few weeks.

Sam suddenly clapped his hands, "So, Y/n, you gonna give us the scoop on what kind of clown getup Stark's making us wear for this thing?" Bucky quirked an interested eyebrow in your direction. 

Tony had sworn you to secrecy from the rest of the Avengers. He didn't want them knowing any details until the last minute. _So they can't bail on me_ , you recalled him saying, twirling a pen in his hand as he reviewed over your notes.

"Ah, so that's why you two have crossed my path so much today! You're trying to get me in trouble!" You playfully accused. You caught the way a pair of smoky blues held yours before falling down to your mouth. It was a sight that quickly evaporated from the brown-haired super soldier and he bashfully lowered his head. Caught in the act.

"It must be bad," Bucky murmured, turning back toward you with a smirk.

"Must be," Sam colluded.

You balked at that, "I know entrapment when I see it!" 

"Do you?" 

A soft, pointed question. Steve had been pretty quiet up to that point, only filling in bits and pieces of Sam's stories, here and there. You shifted in your seat, glancing across from you to a pair of smugly amused eyes. You hesitantly chewed at your plump bottom lip. 

"At least give me the color, Y/n. I can't have these two fossils dressed better than me," Sam pleaded. 

A laugh escaped you and you tilted your head toward Sam in disbelief, "Who would have imagined the Falcon being so vain?" Sam shrugged, feigning innocence and you laughed again.

"Sam, please. After Tony, you're the most ostentatious," Bucky said with a swig of his beer. "Gucci this and Hugo that. I swear, this century is obsessed with glitz and glam." He looked to you, back in your modest sweater dress, "there is so much beauty in simplicity."

Steve hummed in quiet agreement.

You narrowed your eyes, watching as Steve's supple lips lingered over the rim of his bottle. He winked, ignoring your perturbed glare. He was openly toying with you, but you would not let him get under your skin. You returned your attention back to Sam.

"Well, I can say that great care is going into your suit selections. I promise, whatever color you wind up with, you will all be impeccably dressed, perfectly tailored, and quite handsome I'm sure." 

"You're a doll, Y/n. I know we're in good hands." 

_Doll?_ You lowered your dark lashes and ran a hand coyly over your bound braids. A slow grin crept over his mouth and you felt your cheeks warm. "I thank you for your trust, James." 

Steve placed his bottle down with a thud, breaking the increasing tension that had come over the table, "Well, I guess that's all we're going to get out of her about the party."

You refused to make eye contact with him. While you were grateful for the distraction, you had no interest in catering to his jealous behavior. You needed a moment, just to breath in solitude. You rose from your seat and smoothed your dress over your form.

"If you'll excuse me," you said, hesitating for a moment as you looked over your purse and coat. "Do you mind?" You pointed toward your things.

"Nah, if we can manage to save the world, we can watch over your stuff, Y/n," Sam assured.

You thanked them and headed toward the back of the venue, not noticing the pairs of blue eyes trailing after you.

* * *

As soon as you were out of earshot, Sam hopped over into your seat, next to Bucky, "Who the hell are you and what happened to Barnes?!" 

Bucky cocked his head back, "Well, I did some thinking and you were right earlier, Sam. I _am_ the smooth one. She's just..." Bucky pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, "she's a bit intimidating and I lost my nerve."

"Intimidating?" Steve was amused. "How so?"

Bucky leaned back in his seat, taking a moment to think, "She's smart, kind. So far, she's managed to appease Stark with this whole charity event. She takes care of herself, has a smile and a body that just won't quit. It's a little intimidating." Steve's eyes narrowed briefly and Bucky lifted a dark brow, "You disagree?"

"No," Steve shifted, calming his face, "Y/n seems like a nice girl. You just..." Steve was having trouble maintaining his illusion of disinterest. He had not expected Bucky to step up his game with you so quickly. He must be really interested in you and that bothered him. _Immensely_. "This infatuation seems sudden."

"Yeah? Well, maybe it's this whole event. It'd be nice to have a nice dame on my arm. A little dinner, maybe some dancing."

Steve felt his face tensing again and he played it off with an incredulous laugh, "I'm sorry, Buck, but how do you know Y/n's even available? How do you know she's not just being friendly. You said it yourself, she's a kind girl."

Sam studied the captain. 

Bucky was quiet for a moment, "Well, I guess I don't, but her hanging out with us tonight is a pretty good sign."

"You seem kind of defensive there, Steve." Sam's brown eyes measured his friend carefully. "I thought we were trying to help Soldier Boy here get accustomed to the 21st century?"

Steve flicked his tongue over the roof of his mouth and raised both eyebrows. He toyed with his empty bottle. 

"What happened to you anyway, Rogers? I thought you had a date tonight?" Sam asked. "Sharon finally had enough of your bullshit?"

Steve rolled his eyes, "It wasn't Sharon. You know nothing's going on with her."

"Uh huh, keep telling yourself that. Shit or get off the pot, man. You don't have to let those PR suits dictate your life. If you want to be with Sharon, _be_ with Sharon, and if you don't, stop pretending. Get what you want."

Steve flexed his jaw, his eyes shifting from the paratrooper over to Bucky and he huffed through his nose. He observed your purse on the table for a moment, "Yeah," he mused, "maybe you're right, Sam." 

"You could still recover tonight, you know? Those two girls at the bar have been eyeing the back of your head all night, Steve." Sam tilted his head toward the corner of the pub.

Steve turned slightly to glance over his shoulder and caught the waves of an attractive red-head and brunette. He gave a polite nod in return and turned back to face his smirking friends. Suddenly Steve was hit with an idea. He needed a way to get you out of this restaurant, away from Sam and Bucky, and it was just handed to him.

"Well," Steve forced a wide grin, "seems like I'll be right back." He stood and made his way over to the bar, leaving his friends shaking their heads.

Steve puffed out his chest as he approached the two women at the bar, who were suddenly far less interested in talking to each other. Fluttered eyelashes and bright smiles greeted him as he leaned against the wood. "Ladies." He put on his best act to show interest at their response, but he knew he was running short on time. You'd be back to the table any second now.

"Seems like I'm playing wingman tonight, but I'm sure you know who the Falcon and the Winter Soldier are," Steve paused briefly for their longing acknowledgements, "but as I'm getting ready to leave, I'd hate for them to have to call their night short on my account. Care to give them some company?"

"Sure, _Captain,_ " came the eager replies.

Steve flashed his pearly whites and winked, "Just wait until I grab my coat," he instructed, tapping a palm against the oak. He pushed away and headed for the restrooms, hoping to catch you alone before you made your way back to his suite mates. He made it to the unisex washroom, just as you opened the door.

* * *

You could see someone lingering outside of the frosted door, but when you moved to open it, you were not expecting Steve Rogers to encompass its frame. There was no getting around him.

"Having fun?" Steve's voice was a low rumble. He stepped toward you, forcing you back into the bathroom, and locked the door behind him. 

"Steve? What are you doing?" You asked, peering into the darkening depths of the ocean itself. 

"I'm talking to you, that's what I'm doing. I want to know if you're having fun flirting with Bucky." He continued backing you into the small room and didn't stop until you were against the sink counter.

You felt your ass bump against the hard surface. You were trapped in his energy now, the heat radiating from all six foot one inches of his broad, muscular form. You had been apart for a month and yet, your body still reacted to the golden Avenger. You placed your palms back to brace yourself against the marble.

"Are you kidding me right now? You're the one who didn't want this." You pointed back in forth in the small space between you. "You're the one who walked out."

A flush grew over Steve's milky skin, "I-I only tried to do what was best for you, Y/n! This life-it's not easy for civilians!"

You scoffed, "So, it's easy for you to fuck me, but not have any other kind of attachment? Fuck you, Steve! You told me I deserved more!"

"And, so you flirt with Bucky?!" Steve planted a hand alongside yours and leaned into you, peering down with stormy eyes. "God, Y/n, he's my best friend and we shared everything growing up, but seeing you so chummy with him, seeing his eyes roam over what's _mine_..." He drew his other hand to trace his fingers over your jawline. His thumb brushed over your lips and his eyes followed. 

Your mouth opened to talk over his rough skin, "Steve, I'm not y-"

His mouth crashing over yours ended your debate. He drank you in, cupping your face with his large hands as he deepened the kiss. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the power of his muscular form. "Steve-" you pushed against him.

You were cut off again as Steve abruptly turned you around to face the mirror hanging over the sink. He pulled you against his torso, your ass grazing against his crotch, and you could feel how incredibly hard he was. The raging look that met you in the glass made you shiver.

Steve nuzzled his nose against the lobe of your ear. He inhaled your sweet, cocoa scent and groaned. "Did you actually think I'd let him get close to you like this?" He snaked a hand over to grope at your breasts. "You feel so good, Y/n," he whispered hotly against your ear. "I've missed you." He ground his cock against you, as if to corroborate his claim. His free hand reached for the bottom of your dress and he inched it up. "Are you wet?"

You wiggled in his embrace. Between the furnace that was Steve and your outfit, you were burning up. "Steve, we can't."

"Are you wet?" the captain asked again, intently. His wandering hand made its way to the band of your tights. His hand slipped inside and he smirked against the shell of your ear, pleased at the answer. "Mmm, good girl."

You inhaled sharpely. You didn't have a daddy kink, but every time Steve praised you in that way, it made you preen inside. Damn him. You felt his thick fingers push aside the thin material between your legs and he slid over your seam. You squirmed a bit more and Steve held you tighter against his chest. Your eyes met in the reflection, speaking silently of pent-up frustration and desire. God you were so pissed at him. You hated how much he had hurt you, but now, in that moment, you were quietly pleading with him. The hand at your chest pinched hard at your nipple as he parted you, diving into your slick. You closed your eyes in pure bliss as he began to play you like a fine instrument. 

"Did you actually think that I'd let _James_ touch you like this?" Steve murmured, grinding hard against you as he fondled you. 

You didn't respond. You couldn't. With the thrill of Captain America himself possessively getting you off in a public restroom, words were insignificant. You whimpered and quickly bit your lip, not wanting all of Murphy's to hear your sounds of ecstacy.

Steve snickered as he nipped at your jaw, "You got wetter. Does Bucky turn you on? Are you thinking about him right now? Wishing he was fingering you instead of me?" He started to stroke your clit with renewed purpose.

"Steve," you gasped, bringing a hand to cover over his forearm at your torso. He looked so pale against your skin. You gripped him hard as he strummed your body. 

"Oh no, Y/n," the man behind you countered, "go ahead. You need to get this out of your system." He picked up the pace. 

You opened your eyes to a hurricane staring back at you, all fury and focus. 

"You going to cum?" He teased, smirking at you in the glass. "Go ahead. Say his name." 

You fought it off for as long as you could, but soon, you were panting the other soldier's name. "Oh, oh Bucky," you moaned, as the strings of your approaching release tightened even more. Steve's slick-moving digits toppled you over the edge, in a hushed chorus of mewls.

The captain held you tight, still plucking while you shakily rode out the remaining notes of your orgasm. He gave a pointed tap against your mound as he withdrew from your leggings. He admired your arousal. "I'm tempted to sneak a taste, Y/n, but I don't want to ruin my appetite. Not when we still have the whole night ahead of us." He winked at you in the mirror and reached for the sink.

You listened as Steve washed his hands and shook your head in disbelief at what just occurred, at what he was proposing, "I-I can't have you over, Steve."

Steve tutted, wiping his hands with a paper towel, "I'm not going to your place tonight, Y/n. You're going to go back to the table, tell those two that you have to go. At first, they'll offer to walk you back, but won't be able to. They'll be occupied." He balled up the paper and tossed it into the bin and turned back to face you, "So, being the gentleman that I am, and seeing how I don't want to be stood up again, _I'lI_ walk you back to the Tower. Then," he continued nonchalantly, "I'm going to bring you upstairs, eat you out, and fuck that sweet pussy of yours so good that you'll never think about flirting with Bucky again."

Your eyes widened in shock at the brazen filth coming out of the captain's mouth. "Steve, we aren't-"

Steve frowned, "This isn't up for discussion, Y/n," he announced in his formal tone. "Either you follow along with that plan or I'm going to fuck you in this bathroom and everybody in this place will hear you scream my name. Those are the options." Steve cocked his head toward the door, "Now, after you, I'll be out in a sec."

For such a short walk from the restroom to the seating area, it felt like a mile. Your steps were heavy with embarrassment and shame. How could you have given into Steve so easily? How could he manipulate you so fast? _Oh god, do I look like I was just fingered in the bathroom?_ You thought in panic, but before you could turn back around, Bucky was saying your name. 

"Y/n. There you are," the super soldier called. He eyed you curiously, "Is everything alright?"

You tried to smile sincerely, remembering the instructions you were just given. "Yes, James. I-I'm just feeling a bit tired. It's been a long week. I'm going to head back. Thank you both for the company tonight." You reached for your purse and coat. 

"We can walk you back, Y/n," Sam offered, "give me just a moment to get the tab."

"Oh, that's okay Sam, don't let me stop your night. It's a short walk," you said, slipping into the sleeves of your coat. As you finished your line, Steve approached you from behind, phone in hand, and grabbed his jacket. 

"Sorry to show up late and leave early, but I need to take care of something," Steve said waving his phone. He glanced at your coat in hand, "You heading out too, Y/n? I can walk you back to the Tower if you'd like." He gave you a charming smile.

"Actually, we're about to head back too," Bucky informed, "Sam's just going to-"

"Are you the Falcon?!" An excited voice came from behind Steve. "Oh, and you must be the Winter Soldier! Do you mind if we ask for a selfie?" 

You caught the subtle grin from Steve as two women appeared from his side, eager to get to the men seated at the table.

"Uhm, hello," Sam greeted in slight confusion. They were the same women who had been eyeballing Steve all night. 

"We're such big fans and it would just mean so much to us if we could..."

Steve's voice cut in, taking advantage of the confusion, "I'll get Y/n back. You two seem _occupied_." He grabbed you lightly by the elbow and ushered you to the door. You turned to look over your shoulder. Sam seemed to be picking up a second wind while Bucky caught your eyes and gave you an awkward look, almost as if to apologize for the intrusion. If only he knew that he was the one owed an apology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this story won't leave me alone. One last chapter of pure filth coming soon.


	4. The tower.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve reminds you that you're his.
> 
> Mind the added tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said this chapter would be pure filth? 
> 
> Well, it is. It's also drawn out.
> 
> Here's your chance to jump ship. You can skip this chapter and read a brief summary at the start of chapter 5 to get the gist.
> 
> Walking gif is mine. WYN gif humbly borrowed and edited.

You didn't know which was worse, the thick, unspoken tension that hung between you and the disgruntled captain, or the cool fall air that was nipping at your cheeks.

Regardless, the walk back to the Tower was uncomfortable. 

Your hands were shoved into the pockets of your camel brown peacoat, the heels of your boots tapped along the sidewalk. It was nothing compared to the purposeful heavy steps from the man beside you.

Steve had been surprisingly mum when you left the pub, letting go of your arm when you were away from the competition. You honestly couldn't believe how daring he had been. Was he that jealous of his own best friend? You knew Bucky seemed to be warming up to you, but at first you thought he was taking Sam's lead, being purely platonic. But today, today had shown you there was more than just a friendly hello behind Bucky's crystal blues and that had triggered something dark and desperate in Steve.

You were so lost in your thoughts, sorting out how you got to this point, that you didn't notice your escort had fallen behind. You neared the main doors of the Tower and looked back to see the formidable captain, sauntering toward you like a lion with a cornered prey. His unabashed stare was already undressing you and, with the deliberate pull at the corner of his mouth, he _wanted_ you to know it. 

You swallowed at his slow steps, recalling the plans he threatened you with in Murphy's. You knew Steve could fuck, but jealous Steve, now also known as Don't-Make-Me-Fuck-You-In-This-Public-Bathroom Steve, was oozing a whole other level of Big Dick Energy with his lazy, confident stroll. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you were scared.

You were also the most aroused you had been in your entire life.

When the captain finally reached you, he paused to look over your face and clicked his tongue against his cheek in quiet appraisal. He nodded to the security guard through the glass and the entrance doors opened.

"After you, Ms. Y/l/n," Steve said, extending his hand out in front to signal you along. His eyes followed your hips as you moved in front of him - he still appreciated your curves, even if they were covered by your coat.

Eerily, the atrium was empty, the normal bustle tampered by the late hour. Once again, you and Steve were navigating around each other in shadows and secrecy. When you approached the glass elevators, your steps became weary - your brain trying to keep you from indulging in something you knew you'd regret later. You turned to face Steve as he moved to push the button. "This isn't a good idea," you said quietly, watching as the glass box descended from the central corridor. 

Steve raised an eyebrow in your direction, "What isn't? The part where you cum six times tonight?" He asked you in mocked confusion.

_Why are you such an asshole?_ You wondered to yourself. 

"Steve, be serious, please-"

His hands were on you again, cradling your face in a heated kiss. The elevator doors swished open behind you and Steve walked you inside fishing into his pocket for his badge. He blindly swiped at the reader, "Thirty-two," he ordered over your lips. The AI of the Tower politely acquiesced and the lift began to ascend. 

Steve was literally taking your breath away with every swipe of his mouth over yours. He ground against you and, even with the layers of wool and cotton between you, you could feel his arousal against your thigh. You felt him fumble at the buttons of your coat as his focus shifted to your jugular. 

"Why do you always smell so good, Y/n?" Steve mused in wonder against the sensitive skin of your neck. His fingers unfastened the last button and he pulled back slightly to peer into your eyes, drawing his fingertips to caress the intertwined hair at your temple. "Take down your hair?"

If you had any sense of self-respect left, you would have said no and pushed his wandering hands away. You would push the elevator button for the lobby and head for the parking garage. You would have done exactly that if you could have resisted the pull of Steve's lust-blown eyes.

Instead, you reached up to the pile of hair at the top of your head and unwound the elastic to loosen the bun, giving your head a shake. Long, dark, braided locks cascaded evenly over you, partially covering your face and landed over your shoulders. Meeting those eclipsed eyes again, you trembled as his teeth planted into his bottom lip. 

Steve was going to wreck you tonight.

The only thing that was stopping him from starting right then was the AI's announcement that you had arrived to the designated floor.

You felt him grab your hand and he pulled you along the corridor. The barren hall soon opened up to a common area, illuminated only by the moonlight shining in through the expanse of windows. From what little you could see, the center of the room was handsomely furnished with a large, plush leather sectional, littered with pillows, and a matching attractive chair. There was also a dining area and a full, impressive kitchen off to the side. After nearly a year of playing this dangerous game, this was the first time you had been to this part of the Tower. 

Steve slid out of his jacket while you took in the room and he lifted the strap of your purse with his fingers. He followed by helping you out of your coat. His hand clasped over yours and he pulled you into the room, toward the over-sized chair, and tossed your things onto the nearby couch. 

"Take off your dress."

It was as much of a command as it was a request as the golden Avenger let go of your hand and took a step back to watch you. You curled your fingers under the hem of the long, form-fitting garment and started to pull. You felt your skin prickle as the layer of wool was lifted, then carefully removed from over your head. Your braids spilled back down over you, landing teasingly over the cups of your bra.

Steve was silent as he enjoyed the view, taking a long, relished look at you over his enviously long lashes. He drew a hand up to your face, curling a few strands of your locks over your ear, and traced his knuckle down your exposed skin. He teased the back of his hand over the seam of your lace-bordered bra, not red - but black would due.

"Sit in the chair," Steve ordered again. 

You obeyed, lowering yourself into the comfortable chair. You watched as Steve knelt down in front of you. He helped you out of your boots and set them aside. You inhaled deeply at the feel of his large hands gliding over your legs, up to the top of your leggings. He coaxed you to lift your hips and he took the opportunity to tug your leggings and your panties over your ass and down your legs. He tossed those onto the couch with the rest of your stuff. 

Steve ran his hands over your legs again, in awe of how soft you were to the touch. He urged you to sit closer to the edge and gently pushed your legs apart, feeling quite proud of your very apparent arousal. His supple lips, surrounded by his end-of-the-day stubble, kissed along your inner thighs as he snaked his powerful forearms around you to hold you in place. 

To say that the first swipe of Steve's tongue was heavenly would only be half true. It was both heavenly and tortuous at the same time. Those plump, pink lips knew how to savor over your folds, noisily kissing and sucking, just so, encouraging every feverish whimper and moan from you.

It invigorated him.

Your pleasure.

Even though your sexual escapades were casual, Steve always managed to make it feel like you were high on him and him alone. Through hazy eyes, you could make out him removing a single hand from you, reaching for his buckle. You dropped your head back at the thought of him stroking himself as he got you off with his mouth. 

God, he loved going down on you, exerting his control over you, your body, and at that moment, Steve was feeling extra motivated to do so. His lips twisted up slightly against you, staring while you got lost in the feel of him enjoying you, like the sweet fruit that you were. He ran his hand over his cock as you started to wiggle under his ministrations.

The extra motivation that Steve was feeling was not out of pride from his skill, but more so in knowing that he was going to make you cum in that chair - Bucky's favorite chair - and every time he'd see Buck perched on it, as they watched sports or played games, Steve would recall this night. He increased his ministrations, even more determined to see you fall apart.

"Shit," you huffed, trying to keep yourself upright with your elbows on the wide, leather seat. Your body started to act on its own accord, rocking back and forth against the mouth that was steadily torturing you. You could feel it, the approaching ecstacy, and you stretched out a hand and gripped his blond locks, holding his head in place while ground against him. You heard Steve give a low, approving moan and you willingly succumbed to him. 

Steve leaned back, licking the shine from his lips and lazily caressed your satin skin. He could hear the increase of your heartbeat as you regained your breath and he chuckled. 

"Do you think Bucky could make you feel that good?"

"Shut up, Steve," you panted, "jealousy is a terrible look on you."

The captain tilted his head and hummed in thought, sliding his palms over the sides of your stomach. He kissed a path up the middle. "Jealous?" He considered aloud, nibbling at your skin. He hooked his fingers under the straps of your bra and pulled them down. The cups of your bra loosened and he eagerly pushed away the delicate fabric. "Jealous of Bucky?" He dragged his stubbled mouth along the underside of your tits and nuzzled you. "No. Especially not at the moment, Y/n," Steve brushed aside your hair and ran his thumb over a puckered nipple. He began to tease you again with his devilish mouth. His other hand returned to your core, not quite done toying with you as he pursued you from two fronts. 

Steve gathered some of your slick and slipped his long middle finger inside of you, "As long as you know you're mine, Y/n, I have nothing to be jealous about," he grazed his teeth over one of your swollen buds to emphasize his point.

You bit your lip as his finger started to curl inside of you, the sensation of him searching for your hidden spot and the feel of him at your chest was making you drunk, but you were coherent enough to want to spit some venom back at Steve. He was a little too smug with himself tonight and you wanted to knock him down a few pegs. 

"I'm..." 

But damn, he was making it hard to formulate words.

"I'm not yours, Steve. James would make me his. He wouldn't... he wouldn't play me like you do." You knew better, you did, but there was no taking those words back now.

Steve lifted his head from you with a growl. His fiery eyes reflected his pissy mood and he roughly shoved a second finger inside of you. "Go ahead, Y/n, think of him tonight. I don't care. I'm still going to enjoy this. Your body knows _who_ it wants," Steve said coolly. He aggressively pumped his fingers inside of you, rubbing roughly against your g-spot. He was going to pull another orgasm from you - in that damn chair. 

"Fuck!" You didn't mean to shout, yet you grasped desperately at his arm to slow his hand.

Steve leaned into you, nipping at your neck, "What was that, Y/n? I didn't quite hear you," he chided, ignoring your meager attempts to temper his pace. 

You squealed, trying to sit up from your slouched position, but Steve's weight was pushing into you, his hot breath puffed against your collarbone.

"Please," you panted.

He could see it, the glazed over expression that was falling over your face. Your nails dug deeper into his wrist. You were close. Steve had you exactly where he wanted you. "Please, what, Y/n? You want me to stop or do you want me to let you cum?" He was mocking you again and he worked his hand harder. 

You couldn't answer. You couldn't answer because you didn't know. You moaned and shifted in your seat, trying to brace yourself. 

"Use your words, Y/n," Steve taunted. "If you can't take these fingers, how are you going to take my cock?" He brought his face up to yours, "because you _are_ going to take it."

You felt something break inside of you and you screamed, quaking with a new sensation as you gushed hard. Every bone in your body morphed into jelly and you tried to comprehend what had just happened. You had never squirted before in your life. You could barely breath.

The captain abruptly stood, shoving off his pants, and tossing them onto the garment pile. He pulled his shirt over his head and scooped you into his arms. His strides up one of the branching split levels were hasty as he rushed toward his bedroom. Steve voiced a gruff command to open the doors of his quarters and he promptly deposited you onto his bed. He pulled at the drawer of his nightstand, finding a condom and stretched it over his length. 

As he positioned himself between your legs, and pushed, the debauched groan that echoed from his throat was pure sin.

It had been more than four weeks, maybe five, since the last time Steve was inside of you, and the burn of his girth stretching you reminded you of that. You were quickly yanked from your second orgasmic high and you planted a hand against America's six-pack.

"Wait, wait, Steve," you pleaded. He was only in half-way. 

The captain shushed you and grabbed along the curves of your hips. "I said you were going to take it, _doll_. You'd best get ready." He pulled you down as he shoved forward, forcing the rest of his cock into you.

You cried out in rapture and pain. Over-stimulated and already on the brink of cumming again. Your eyes flickered over Steve's face as he lowered himself onto his forearms and kissed you deeply. He remained still while you teetered on the edge, your body timidly pulsed in anticipation.

Steve snickered against your mouth. "Fuck, Y/n, are you going to cum on my cock already? You miss me that much?" He rocked back, almost slipping from you entirely, and slowly plunged back into your heat. He continued to worship your mouth, drinking in your moans as you came for the third time. "Half-way there, _doll_ , and I'm just getting started." He gripped the base of his member and pulled out, impatiently swatting at the side of your hip. "Turn over, Y/n. I want to fuck you from behind."

You were slow to respond, sluggish from the euphoric cloud that surrounded you, but somehow you made it onto your stomach. You heard Steve's sharp inhale. Over the past year, you came to understand just how much of an ass man the golden Avenger was. He always enjoyed showing his gratitude toward your ample backside.

Steve swatted you again, "Ass up, Y/n. You're not getting tired already?" He chuckled and then took pity on you, guiding your hips into his desired position. He slid back inside with a satisfied grunt and he floated a hand over your back, latching onto your shoulder and began to work his pelvis. His eyes were fixated on your joining - how he disappeared into the silky brown expanse of your body. You were so tight around him, the drag of your pussy over his length was addictive and for all of his talk tonight, he was so wound up that he had to be cautious of his movement. He grit his teeth and a rising blush crept over his neck and face. 

His wild blue eyes continued to watch your form slap against him. The tremble of your legs. The jiggle of your butt. He smacked one of your inviting cheeks with his palm and was thrilled by your soft moan. He spanked you a few more times, matching the cadence of his thrusts, stopping when your skin warmed under his touch. He smoothed one of his hands over one of your tender globes and his thumb trailed dangerously close to your forbidden hole. Steve wet his bottom lip, slowed his pace, and trailed the tip of his finger over your puckered rim.

"When are you going to let me fuck you here, Y/n?" His voice was hoarse and strained as he cautiously tested your resistance. 

You tensed at the feeling of him probing you with curious, gentle pokes. You felt him become more bold as he slipped his thick digit deeper, exploring your body's most taboo place. You stiffened more, not ready for such an intrusion or the pain. You involuntarily tightened over him and you heard Steve swear loudly. 

Not that you were in any state to formulate any thoughts, but you decided that the man behind you was trying to kill you tonight. You cried out at a particularly hard jolt as he started to ride you hard, his thumb continuing to rub and sink deeper inside of you. You sunk down onto your elbows and fisted the navy blue sheets, trying your best to take the frenzy that was Steve Rogers. 

"I'd bet you'd let Bucky fuck this sweet ass of yours," Steve growled. "Wouldn't you, Y/n?!" 

Something wasn't right. His tone was cold and distant. Desperate.

Before you could answer, you felt yourself being hoisted upright, smashed against a hard body of sweat and muscle. A thick arm wrapped around you, shoving aside your hair to play with your bouncing tits.

"He couldn't fuck you like this, Y/n. He doesn't know your body like I do," Steve rasped in your ear. He hissed as he felt you clench over him. "Tell me you're mine." His hands slid up to your throat. His other hand fell between your legs. 

" **Tell me** ," Steve repeated. A darkness edged his command and he rubbed roughly at your bundle of nerves. He squeezed his hand, continuing to piston into you.

"I-I'm... please," you managed through the pressure. You closed your eyes. Your head was swimming.

" **Say it!** " the captain barked, keeping you firmly against him.

"I'm yours, Steve," you gasped, pushing your hands frantically against his thighs. You were there, but it was too much. You felt him cut off your air as the fireworks exploded within and you tumbled, violently over the edge. Everything else faded to black while you fell into the darkness. 

* * *

Steve bellowed hedonistically, just before you passed out - your body holding him like a vice as you convulsed from your orgasm. When you fainted, he quickly pulled out, ripped off the condom, and in his crazed state, pumped himself over the curve of your ass. He sat back on his haunches and ran a hand through his wet hair as he gazed down at your unconscious form. He knew you enjoyed it rough on occasion, but he had lost control this time.

You were right about him.

He was jealous.

He carefully climbed off the bed and walked into his bathroom, tossing the condom in the bin. He stared in the mirror and could barely recognize himself. He reached for the faucet, splashing his face with cold water and then adjusted the temperature to a warm stream. He wet a washcloth and returned to you. 

With each tender pass over your skin, the guilt that Steve felt became more heavy. He had used you tonight. He used you to work out his own frustration and jealousy over a situation that was out of his control. Or, at least that what he tried to convince himself. When he finished cleaning off his cum, he gently lifted you, covering you with the soft, dark blue sheets. He curled around you from behind and closed his eyes. 

As much as Bucky was a friend, a brother, he was a threat in this situation. Bucky was not subjected to the narrative that S.H.I.E.L.D. constructed. He was not a national symbol that had to be perfect in every way. Ironically, this time, it was Steve who was being controlled by an overreaching agency. Bucky was able to build a life for himself, to pursue his own interests, to _love_ who he wanted - even if that "who," became you.

Of course Steve was jealous.

Bucky was free.

* * *

Slowly, consciousness returned to you and you cracked your eyes open. It was dark, but a light from an attached room gave you enough to see a little of your surroundings. You sat up and stared into an unfamiliar bedroom, large and, for the most part, simply decorated in white and navy. 

You were naked and alone.

You drew a sheet up to cover your chest and noticed your belongings on a chair across the room. Suddenly, the night came crashing back into your memory.

Steve.

Something in him had snapped and he was harder on you that he'd ever been. It scared you - how raw he was - the glimpse of his cold, unrestrained power. There was something twisted in the way he had brought up his friend. The anger. You had never experienced that before.

Wearily, you crept out of the bed and made your way to your clothes. You noted that the illuminated room was a bathroom and entered. You didn't know where Steve was, but you really didn't care. You didn't want to face him. Not right then. Not after... that. You reached into your purse to check your phone.

04:45.

Well, at least your chances of a witnessed walk of shame from this part of the Tower would be slim. You timidly pulled on your clothes, noticing the spots of bruising that were starting to bloom over your body. Your hands shook and you steadied yourself to finally pull on your boots.

When you left the bathroom, Steve was there, disheveled hair and dressed only in loose gray sweatpants. His eyes were hesitant as he looked at you.

"Y/n, I-" he started softly. 

You shook your head, "Don't. I can't deal with you right now, Steve." You carefully dragged your coat over your shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Y/n, I lost control."

"You think?!" You exclaimed. "Steve, I don't know what it is that you're struggling with. I don't know what it is that won't allow you to actually _care_ for me, but I don't want to be a part of this anymore. I _can't_ be a part of this," your voice shook and you could feel the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, "it hurts too much." You whispered.

You grabbed your purse off the counter and moved past him, heading for the stairs that led to the common room. You didn't hear him try to follow or stop you.

There was nothing else left to say.

By the time you reached the elevator bay, you were full-fledged crying. A year's worth of frustration and heartache catching up with you at that moment. When the doors finally slid open, you rushed inside, oblivious to the person that was trying to exit.

"Y/n?!" A concerned, familiar voice asked.

_Oh no_. Of course you'd run into him now. The only one, out of the three, you'd actually consider a friend. 

You tried to calm your voice, "I'm sorry, Sam," you offered and quickly reached for the lobby button. 

"Are you-"

The closing doors cut him off and you leaned against the back wall, clutching at your purse strap. You were going home and then, you needed to get away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. That was a lot. If you're still with me, I thank you! Thank you also for the kudos and the kind comments. I'm glad to see people enjoying this story. 
> 
> I don't know how many chapters are left. Every time I try to end this damn story, it shoots off on its own. Maybe two more chapters? Your guess is as good as mine!


	5. The tower (part 2).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve reflects on what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap for those that skipped chapter 4:  
> \- You (the reader) allowed Steve to take you to his quarters in the Tower.  
> \- Steve's jealousy over Bucky caused him to lose control and he was too rough with you.  
> \- You left Steve, telling him that he needed to deal with whatever he was struggling with that was preventing him from caring about you. We later found out that Steve figured himself trapped in his heroic persona and was jealous of Bucky's freedom to create his own life.  
> \- As you left the Tower, distraught over Steve's handling of you, you ran into Sam, who was about to ask if you were okay, but the elevator closed you off.

"Hey Rogers!"

Steve looked up from the floor, from where you stood only minutes before, and sighed. It was Sam. You hadn't been gone that long, but perhaps there was still a chance the other man hadn't seen you leave, and Sam's shouting was purely coincidental.

"Rogers?!"

Or maybe not.

Steve made his way down from his side of the floor and walked into the common room. "Jesus, Sam, it's five in the morning. Could you stop the shouting?"

Sam narrowed his eyes and watched his teammate approach, half-dressed and looking a bit worse for wear. He gave a suspicious look and pointed out into the hallway. "You don't happen to know why I just ran into a crying Y/n out by the elevator, do you?" He didn't get an immediate reply, so he continued, "I mean, especially since it _is_ , as you said, five in the morning and she was wearing the same clothes from yesterday." He watched as his friend placed his hands on his hips and lower his head. "And, you were the one _so insistent_ on walking her back from Murphy's. I mean, you wouldn't know anything, would you, Steve?" 

Sam's voice was inching up in volume again and Steve looked around, "Where's Bucky?"

Sam scoffed in disgust, "He's in the gym and you," he pointed a finger at the other man, "you're a piece of fucking work, man. Out of everyone in this damn Tower?! No wonder you've been cock-blocking Barnes with her."

Steve shuffled to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. "Sam, I really don't need this. Not now."

"How long have you been sleeping with Y/n?"

The blond chortled warily, "I don't think that's any of your business."

"Does Bucky know?"

Steve shook his head.

"With all this Sharon shit and you playing around, you had to pull her in into your mess while you tried to," Sam threw up quote fingers, "find yourself. She's a good person Steve."

"I know!" Steve said sharply.

"I never told Barnes this, because I wanted to give Y/n a chance to open that door herself, but I knew her from when I lived in D.C. and ran the support group. She was with a different, high-profile, non-profit and helped raise money for our chapter. I didn't know how good she was at her job until I saw her walking around the Tower one day, with a fancy title, working for Stark. She's has a heart of gold, Steve. She doesn't deserve this!"

Steve cast his eyes over to Sam, "Why didn't you say anything?"

The Falcon crossed his arms over his chest. "What difference would it have made? Would that have stopped you from marking your territory?"

 _No. Likely not._ Steve thought. When his cocky, authoritative side reared its ugly head, there was little he could do tame it. It was his one bit of indulgence that he allowed himself. Only this time, it lasted too long and feelings got involved. Apparently on both sides. He gulped at his water and easily crushed the bottle into a small ball.

"You need to fix this, Steve, and you need to tell Barnes because if you don't," Sam pointed his finger again, "it's going to be you, me, and the gloves. You'll likely beat my ass, but I'll still get my point across."

* * *

After spending all weekend working out his frustrations on the punching bag, _bags_ , it was now Monday and Steve hoped to catch you in your office. He wanted confess about how you had been right all along. About how he _was_ jealous of Bucky. He wanted to tell you that he _did_ care about you and ask you for forgiveness. 

He could not stop replaying that night in his head. He had been too rough in his desire to claim you, to make you forget about the possibility of any other man. Steve realized that he truly could not envision you with anyone else - and that meant that he felt more toward you than just care. Whether, over the past year, he had fallen in love, he couldn't say for sure, but he knew that it felt so natural being around you - and that he longed for that feeling more and more. He needed it.

But, that also meant he needed to deal with Sharon, but he didn't want to hurt her either.

There had been a time where he and Sharon had dated seriously and, for a while, they were happy. Initially, when Steve found out about her lineage, he was worried that his previous love for Peggy, Sharon's great aunt, would interfere. He wasn't naive enough to think that one could only love once in a lifetime, but at the same time, the close proximity of Sharon to his first love made him anxious. 

But they worked it out and soon, Steve let go of his fear.

The suits in charge caught wind and decided to use the Avenger/S.H.I.E.L.D. power couple as propaganda - encouraging others to commit to the mission, in every aspect of their lives. However, the fairytale they were moulding started to show cracks, but they both held it together to keep up appearances. 

Steve felt caged. 

He had woken, seventy years later, to a new world and he had no time to explore it for himself. He was quickly taken and shaped by S.H.I.E.L.D., and was given a crafted life with every one of his needs met. It was perfect, just like he was supposed to be, but was not sustainable and he began to desire more.

That was the state he was in when he met you.

Steve stepped off the lift for one of the lower floors and searched among the multitude of office spaces. He had only been to this floor a handful of times, usually when there were major social events being planned that required the presence of the Avengers. He had never been down to specifically visit you. He finally located a door with you name in frosted plexiglass off to the side. He rapped his knuckles against the wood. 

"Oh wow! Captain Rogers!" an excited voice bubbled from behind.

Steve looked over his shoulder to see a young man, probably fresh out of college, poking his head out from one of the cubicles. "Hello," Steve greeted.

"Wow! It's such an honor to meet you, sir!"

The captain gave a quick nod of his head and offered a thin, but polite smile. Before the fawning could go any further, Steve pointed toward your door, "Is Ms. Y/l/n in?"

"No. She's out of town for the week. She's working remote though, if you'd like to email her," the younger man informed. "Or, maybe I could help you. Did you have a question about the gala?"

Steve shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, "Thanks, kid, but no. I appreciate it." He nodded again and spun on his heel, making his way back to the elevator.

He had ran you off. You were out of town and, with that, it was highly unlikely that you'd answer your phone if he called. Steve's cheeks puffed as he let out a breath. 

* * *

Sam was seated at the breakfast bar, back from an afternoon run when he saw Steve sulking back into the common room. He quietly watched as the other man started up the personal coffee machine.

"You know that stuff doesn't work on you, right?" Sam said smartly.

"It's comforting. I drink it for the warmth," Steve returned, listening to the stream pour into the stationed mug.

"So, how'd it go?"

Steve planted his hands on the quartz island and drooped his chin to his chest, "She's not there. Apparently, she's out this entire week. Working remote or something like that."

"Shit, man. You really fucked up," Sam remarked.

"You think?" Steve turned back to the machine as the last of the water sputtered. 

"Well, have you at least talked to Barnes?"

"Talk to me about what?"

Steve blinked slowly and drew his cup to his lips, not caring about the hot temperature. Sam's eyebrows shot up as he glanced over to Bucky and then returned his stare to Steve. The captain took another long sip from his cup and he placed on the counter. "Have a seat, Buck."

Bucky pulled out a stool from the bar and sat down next to the Falcon.

"I owe you an apology," Steve began, "I've been a terrible friend," he squinted and made a face, "probably an average brother, and have been sneaking around behind your back."

The other super soldier lifted his brow in confusion, "Steve, what are you talking about?"

"I've been sleeping with Y/n."

Bucky tilted his head, taking in what he just heard, "You what?"

"I've been sleeping with Y/n," Steve repeated.

The brunette narrowed his eyes and scrunched his lips together in thought, "You two had me out there looking foolish when you've been sneaking around this whole time?" He chuckled in disbelief, "Unbelievable."

Sam pushed himself upright in his stool. Before he could speak, Steve beat him to the punch.

"Sam didn't know. He... stumbled onto it Saturday. He really was trying to help you. This is on me, Buck."

"How long has this been going on?"

Steve stared down into the pitch black liquid in his cup, "Almost a year."

"A year?!" Sam exclaimed.

"What about Sharon?" The other super soldier asked. 

"What **_about_** Sharon?!" Steve shouted. He was frustrated. 

Bucky shook his head, "Jesus, Steve, you really are an asshole. So what, you've been dating both Y/n and Sharon for the past year?"

The captain sighed and swirled his coffee around, "We weren't exactly dating. Just... you know. Having some fun."

Sam gave a questioning look, "And, Y/n was cool with that? She doesn't seem like the type."

Steve brought the mug back up to his lips and drained the rest, "She's not, which is what you saw Saturday." He sat the mug down. 

"You greedy motherfucker."

"Oh please, Bucky, you were doing the same thing back in the day!"

"Do you love Sharon?"

Steve stared at his oldest friend, "I care for Sharon, but I don't love her. Not anymore, but I don't want to hurt her, Buck."

"And, Y/n? Do you love her?"

"I..."

Bucky looked over his friend's face. He could see the inner conflict as Steve wrestled with his feelings. 

Steve ran a hand through his golden hair, "I don't know. Maybe?"

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "I'm going to send you something Rogers - a playlist. It'll help you sort through this mess, but you gotta listen with your ears and your heart, man." He typed into his phone and, not two seconds later, Steve's phone chirped. "See who comes to mind when you take in that music."

Bucky got up from his stool, "I'm going to give you a courtesy, punk. You've got the rest of this week to get your shit together." He reached for an apple from the decorative bowl on the counter. "Because come next week, I'm not going to care if you haven't. I'm going to ask Y/n out to the ball and I have every intention of letting her know it'll be a date." Bucky bit into the fruit and headed out into the hallway. 

Steve retrieved his phone and tapped on the link Sam had sent. His music app opened and he was overwhelmed by the list of names, one or two were familiar from Sam's previous music lessons, but many were not. 

"Start with Charlene," Sam advised.

* * *

Steve spent the rest of the week completely absorbed in Sam's three-hour playlist, which, he deduced from some of the lyrics, the dark-haired Avenger used to set the mood with the ladies. Some of the songs were a bit _much,_ but the rest, their slow rhythms and meaningful words reminded Steve of days long past, when smooth jazzy tunes filled the airwaves. Tunes of courting beautiful dames and loving them right. 

He had texted you twice during the week and called once, hoping for a response that never came. He couldn't exactly blame you for ignoring him. As much as he wanted to apologize to you, to try to explain his dilemma, he understood that any chance of that was entirely up to you. 

Soon it was early Monday morning, and with the chilled, fall rain, Steve found himself on the Avengers' training floor, mundanely running laps on the indoor track. This was it - the week of Y/n's event. It was also the week that Bucky was going to make his move. 

It was just as well.

Steve's dark blue trainers rounded another curve and he looked up to see Sam, "You come to lecture me some more?" Steve asked as he zoomed by for another lap.

Sam threw up his hands in defense, "Just seeing how you are, man." 

"I could be better," Steve shouted from the other side of the room. When he made it back to his suitemate, he slowed and ran his arm across his brow. "What's up?"

"Stark called. We're all meeting at 0800 to go over the plans for Thursday."

"Alright, I'll be there. Thanks, Sam." Steve headed for his duffel bag that was stashed in a cubbyhole. 

"Obviously, you know that means Y/n is back? Give her some space man, let her get through this thing. It's her job," Sam called after him.

Steve grabbed his bag and clutched it between his hands. "Yeah, I know, Sam."

* * *

Tony clapped his hands together as he entered the room and sat at the head of the table.

"Alright listen up, people. This Thursday is a charity event that's near and dear to my heart. We've invited the the brightest minds across the world in the hopes to establish more STEM-based internships for middle and high school kids across the country." He tossed out a few folders to his teammates.

"As you know, or may not know - which would be a shame because she's absolutely delightful - Director Y/l/n has planned a fall-themed event, which includes a dance, the details are in the folders provided. However, since we also have to put up appearances, the S.H.I.E.L.D. suits want us to utilize the buddy system and pair up for the evening."

"Excuse me?" Steve's deep voice interrupted.

"What? Which part?" Tony asked, looking over his glasses.

"A buddy system? They're picking our dates?"

Tony shrugged, "Don't act appalled, Rogers. We all know who you're going with anyway."

Sam pressed his lips together and jutted his eyes over to Bucky, who had since crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well?" Clint asked.

Tony pulled out a paper from his portfolio, "This is like reading off audition results," he murmured. "Married people, you're easy - you're going with your spouse, so that puts me with Pepper and you, Barton, with the lovely Mrs. Barton."

Tony continued, "Steve, you're with Agent Carter - surprise, surprise there."

Steve's jaw ticked.

"Wanda, you're with Vision. Sam, you're with Hill. Thor's bringing Dr. Foster," Tony's brown eyes darted across the middle of the paper, "T'Challa is bringing a special guest of his own..."

Bucky kept still in his seat, feeling like luck would be on his side. So far, Stark hadn't read his name, which meant that you would be fair game.

"Natasha, you're with broodin' Barnes over there..."

And, just like that, Bucky's plans were shattered. He looked over to Steve who couldn't hide his small smirk.

"What about Bruce?" Bucky asked, "No offense, _**dorogaya**_ (dear), I just don't want to step on any toes."

"Bruce is back in India for a mission," Natasha said, simply. She leaned across the table toward her once adversary, "I promise, I won't bite." She winked mockingly and sat back in her chair with a shit-eating grin.

"Perfect," Tony cut in, "this'll be fun."

* * *

That same afternoon, Steve found himself outside of Sharon's office. He knocked softly on the metal frame with his knuckle. 

"Hey, gotta minute?" He asked quietly, holding up two drinks from the café downstairs. 

This was the first time Steve had seen Sharon in weeks. She looked beautiful today. 

She always looked beautiful. 

"Steve?" Sharon questioned in disbelief. She waved him inside, "Sure."

Steve handed over a pumpkin-spiced latte with extra whipped cream.

"Thank you," Sharon said, grateful for the sweet treat. She took a small sip and let her eyes settle on the super soldier's face. "You look tired, Steve." Her tone was not condescending, merely quiet concern. "Carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders again?"

Steve blinked his long lashes and took a gulp of his own beverage. "Guilt," he mused aloud. He thumbed at the creamy mustache that was left behind. 

"Guilt?" Sharon probed.

"Are you happy, Sharon," Steve motioned absentmindedly with his hand, "with all of this? With us?"

Sharon set her cup down, "Is this a trick question?"

"No."

"Yes, Steve, I'm happy with my career. I love my job and I believe in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s mission."

The captain quietly took another drink. 

"But," the younger agent continued, "it would be nice if some aspects of the job weren't as heavily controlled as others."

Sharon's brown eyes grew melancholy. "As for _us_ , what little girl wouldn't grow up wanting a chance to be with a big, strong, superhero? Tall and handsome..." She picked at the label on her cup and glanced coyly at Steve, "Aunt Peggy set the bar pretty high in that regard."

Steve took a deep breath. 

"But, _us_ , wasn't natural, Steve. At first, it was really nice. The shy, boyish looks you would give me, the gentle kisses, the feel of your hand around mine," Sharon paused, struggling with the truth, "but I know something's been off. It has been for a long time. I guess all fantasies, no matter how well-designed, come to an end at some point." 

Sharon gave a small, knowing smile, "So, who is she?"

That caught Steve off guard and a singe of rose set over his cheeks. "Sharon, I-"

"Aunt Peggy would want you to be happy, Steve. Truly. If that's not with me, then you have to go out and find it. But, I get the impression you already may have." A slender hand reached across the desk to hold Steve's. "Who is she?"

Steve slid his thumb over the back of Sharon's hand. "I don't know if it matters now. I screwed up pretty bad. I used her, Sharon. Hurt her," Steve sighed, "in more ways than one. There's also the matter of telling the suits that I don't want to..." He squeezed her hand lightly and let go.

Sharon tilted back into her seat again, "Well, maybe when all the excitement over this charity thing passes, you can make things right. The Captain Rogers that I know never backed away from a fight."

Steve collected his cup and stood. "Yeah. Thanks."

"And, it's not like they can exactly fire you, can they?" She winked. 

Captain America flashed a wry grin, "You've got a point."

* * *

On Tuesday morning, Steve was knocking on the door for Secretary Pierce. He had conversed with the man before, over mission briefings as he, as Steve quickly found out, took great interest in the oversight of the Avengers. If anyone could help Steve sever his puppet strings, surely it was Pierce.

"Captain Rogers," Pierce called after the knock. He took off his reading glasses and folded up his paper. "What can I do for you?"

Steve shut the door and sat across from the rugged, well-dressed man. "Sir, I was wondering if you could help me with something? With navigating some S.H.I.E.L.D. politics?"

Pierce leaned back into his chair and steepled his fingertips. "Go on."

"As you're aware, Agent Carter and I have an... arrangement that's heavily encouraged by S.H.I.E.L.D.. I wanted to see about terminating that particular assignment."

Pierce chuckled, "You're in here asking permission to break up with Agent Carter?"

Steve gave a curt nod, "Yes, sir."

"Well, this is not what I envisioned discussing when I heard you wanted to speak with me," the secretary was still amused and stood from his seat, heading for the window. His back was to the captain. "May I ask why?"

Steve took a moment to weigh how much he wanted to divulge. "Sir, I... S.H.I.E.L.D. has been very accommodating since I woke up from the ice, but I'd like this part of my life to be my own choice."

Pierce continued to stare out of the window, "That's a lot of words just to say you want to sleep around, Rogers."

Steve's eyebrows shot into his hairline. "E-excuse me, sir?"

"Look, a man of your status and physique, there's probably a lot of women throwing themselves at you," he shrugged in his expensive gray suit, "I understand." Pierce turned from the window and stared coolly at his guest, "I'll be frank here, Rogers, I don't care who you fuck behind the scenes, but you and Agent Carter have a nice semblance of tradition and duty that I'd like to keep going. It sets a good example."

The secretary sat back down in his tufted chair. "Is that understood, Captain?"

Steve inhaled deeply through his nose and slowly let it out through his lips. He stood, looking down at his superior, "Thank you for your time, sir." 

He left without acknowledging the question. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how much I laughed at the thought of Sam teaching Steve about love and romance though 90's-00's R&B. :)
> 
> (If you checked out some of the songs on Sam's playlist, let me know! :) )
> 
> Also, y'all thought I was going to drag Sharon, huh? Shame on y'all. We can lift a woman up without tearing another down.


	6. The ballroom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night of your event and you meet some interesting people.

Sam pushed up the knot of his black tie and snugged it into place. "Well, I must say, black is the great equalizer. It's hard for anyone to look bad in it." He swooped his jacket over his shoulders and slipped into it. "I think she took pity on you all and settled for matching suits. She knew it'd wouldn't be a fair fight."

"Are you done peacocking at yourself, Sam?" Bucky asked, fixing the cufflinks on his sleeves. 

"No," came the reply. "I mean, seriously, look at me, Barnes." Sam held his arms open, showing off the perfectly tailored, slim-cut black suit accompanied with a blueish-gray dress shirt. 

Bucky rolled his eyes slid into his own jacket. He too was dressed in a slim black suit; however, his shirt and tie were also black, creating an all-noir ensemble. "I'm glad we're not sitting together," he teased, "I can't deal with this all night."

They both heard the approaching steps as Steve entered the room, and it was quickly noticed that he was the odd man out. 

Sam raised a brow, "What's this?"

"Got a call from Pierce earlier. He wanted me in my service uniform." 

"Just you?" Bucky asked.

"Looks like it," Steve mumbled, looking at his two friends.

Sam scoffed and shook his head. "It's part of the job, man. Gotta play the role." He stared at the uniformed captain, "Hey, you going to be okay?"

Steve shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

"Don't," Sam warned. "You haven't seen her in two weeks and now you're about to see her all glammed out at this fancy shindig. I just want to make sure you're not going to be all up in your feelings tonight when she's trying to focus."

Steve pressed his lips together and swallowed, "Come on. We should head up."

* * *

You were a sight to behold. 

Dressed in a sleeveless, high-neck, chiffon dress. Its color was gold and your collar and empire-waisted belt were adorned in glimmering sequins. The lower half of your dress draped to the floor, blooming out in front of you like petals. Your box braids had been twisted and pinned, reminiscent of a classic Hollywood beauty. You had randomly sprinkled in some gold beads to accentuate your naturally-styled hair. Your makeup complimented your shimmering brown skin. With some dabs of a jasmine and vanilla mix, you felt like a completely different person. You were definitely playing a part this evening, in more ways that one as you though about having to see Steve again and navigate those waters. 

It had been two weeks since that unsettling night and just as long since you last saw him. You didn't know how to feel about him, honestly, but you knew you couldn't be distracted tonight. You'd deal with any emotions, related to seeing Steve, later. 

You were nervous as you stood by entrance and greeted the evening's guests. It was not like this was the first time you had organized a large event. Tonight would be small potatoes compared to some of the bigger bashes you've held. This was; however, the most high-profiled and global gala in your portfolio and the pressure was on.

Tony had assured you that you had already done the hard work. The donors were secured and all the internships were pretty much settled. This ball was just the celebration of work that had been completed all year long. But with the attendees ranging from industrial leaders, to S.H.I.E.L.D. heads, to the Avengers themselves, there were going to be a lot of powerful people here and you needed things to go smoothly. These children you were helping were some of the brightest, young minds in the country and these were the people who would help them on their journeys. 

You took a deep breath and focused on the objective of the evening. You could do this and you would be flawless. 

"Ah, there she is!"

You heard Tony before you saw him and he sauntered into the room, reaching out to you. You greeted your boss and Pepper as they both showered you with compliments. He truly was a gracious boss and you imagined that Pepper had a lot to do with that. 

The suit that you had picked for Tony was a perfect match for him, a similar black, but his shirt was a deep crimson, with ultra-fine specks of gold. Pepper's dress had a similar scheme of deep red and gold. They complemented each other nicely, under the shadow of Tony's Avengers persona. That had been the overall goal for the superheroes who were attending - to dress them impeccably, but still give subtle hints to their working identities.

Tony looked around the room that was tastefully decorated in the deep, rich earth tones of fall and nodded. 

"I like it."

"Thank you, Mr. Stark," you said with a polite tip of your head. 

Tony scrunched up his face, "Come on, Ms. Y/l/n. I thought we were past that? It's Tony. Please."

You nodded, "Only if you return the favor, Mr. Stark." 

The billionaire flicked a finger up in agreement and winked, "You got it. Now, let's greet these people, shall we?"

You were grateful to have Tony and Pepper at your side as the impressive attendees made their way into the ballroom. As the primary sponsors, you were a bit surprised that the two heads of Stark Industries would actively play host along with you, but it made you even more proud to be a Stark employee.

"Oh, this guy. I'm surprised he's still not gazing at himself in the mirror," Tony snarked. He held open his arms, "There he is! The only guy crazy enough to think he could actually out dress me!"

Sam smirked and nodded his head, "Not bad, Stark. Not bad."

"When the canvas is already perfect, Wilson, what do you expect?"

Maria shared an exchange of looks with Pepper and the two women laughed.

"Miss Hill. Always a joy. Please, come in. Table assignments are on the easel." 

As Sam walked by, he flashed you a thumbs up and mouthed a wide _WOW._ You smiled and waved, thankful that he didn't make a scene.

You continued your polite salutations and expressions of gratitude as more people began to arrive. 

"Well, well, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You both look so friendly when you're not in your respective dominatrix gear. _Oof_." Tony caught the elbow in the side from Pepper.

"The night is young, Stark," Natasha teased.

"Don't tell Bruce I made a bad movie joke. He wouldn't get it."

The red-head rolled her eyes and reached to kiss Pepper on the cheek and Bucky did as well. 

You stood quietly off to the side, finding the interactions among the superheroes interesting. As Bucky came fully into your view, your lips parted. He was oozing tall, dark, and handsome in his dark apparel. Those vibrant blue eyes stood out even more against his slightly tanned skin. He glanced at you, placed a hand over his chest, and slightly bowed his head, "Ms. Y/l/n, truly a pleasure to see you again."

"Hello James." You winced to yourself, hoping that didn't sound too casual.

" _James_ , huh?" Tony teased, "Well, there's a first time for everything I guess." 

Before the two could exchange verbal jabs, Natasha pulled Bucky along to find their table. 

Tony turned to you and raised his dark eyebrows, " _James_?" he repeated again, amused. "You two know each other?"

"I've... ran into him few times, usually with Sam. He's always been kind."

"Huh," your boss chuckled and turned back.

"Ah, well if it isn't the Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan himself. Figured you wouldn't be too far away from Barnes."

"Yeah, well someone has to keep an eye on everyone," came the retort.

Steve stepped into your line of vision and suddenly it was as if all the air escaped from the room. He wasn't in the suit you had slated for him, but in his Army formal wear that unfairly flattered every aspect of his tall and broad, muscular form. It was obvious and intentional, but sometimes it still caught you off guard: Steve Rogers was, literally, the embodiment of a perfect soldier.

And, Sharon Carter was the perfect partner.

She looked absolutely radiant in her scarlet red, vintage styled dress. The two looked like they had stepped right out of a retro-themed photoshoot.

As Sharon caught up briefly with Tony and Pepper, Steve allowed himself to look you over from head to toe. He had never seen you so dressed up before and it was an image that he wanted to file away. How could you be even more beautiful? His piercing cerulean eyes lingered over the toned, bare expanse of your arms. You looked so soft... Steve inhaled slowly, willing himself not to think about those delicate layers of gold pooled at your feet. 

"Ms. Y/l/n." Steve's deep voice broke the silence first. 

You knew how to play the game. Your dark eyes lifted up to Steve, "Captain Rogers. What a pleasure to have you this evening."

Steve flicked his eyebrows and looked down. Even with your pleasant words, he could tell you were still upset. "I wouldn't miss such an opportunity to celebrate this wonderful cause," took in the room, "this look great, Y/n. I'm sure you're happy to see your hard work pay off." He meant it. He knew how much effort you had put into this event.

Sharon's conversation wound down and she turned her attention back to Steve. He held his hand out toward you.

"Sharon, this is Director Y/f&l/n. This is her hard work that we're all enjoying tonight."

You inclined your head, "Agent Carter, thank you for coming. I hope that you both have a wonderful time." You were sincere.

"Thank you," Sharon returned cordially. "I'm sure we will, everything looks incredible."

You heard two palms clasp together and a resonating voice came up from behind the power pair. "Now there's a good-looking couple." 

You watched as an older, striking man with russet blond hair kissed Sharon on the cheek and shake Steve's hand. You couldn't help but notice that Steve was a bit thrown off by the exchange. Uncomfortable. Or, maybe that was just your projection as you stood there listening to the admiration of Steve and his date. 

"Secretary Pierce. I'm glad you could made it," Tony interrupted. "I wasn't sure if the S.H.I.E.L.D. suits would find the time for something like this."

"Tony," Pierce acknowledged thinly, "Some of these fine kids mighf be working for us someday. If we can get a look at them while they're young and help mold the best, then of course we'd find the time."

"Well, we have Director Y/l/n to thank," Tony said suddenly, "these are her kids and this is her party. Play nice tonight, Fury too wherever he's at, or S.H.I.E.L.D. will be at the bottom of the list."

You could have died. 

Pierce's deep blue eyes landed on you. He was pensive for a moment, tossing around thoughts unshared. He reached for your hand and gave it a gentleman's kiss. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is grateful for your hospitality and consideration, Ms. Y/l/n." 

"We are honored to have you, Mr. Secretary," you returned, hoping that the rugged man would let you go, but he held you a bit longer. The expression on his face was knowing and he gently let you drift from his fingers. 

"It was wonderful to meet you, my dear." 

"Excuse us," Steve's voice was clipped, _annoyed_ , as he lightly grabbed Sharon's hand and pulled her away from Pierce and his superficial pleasantries. 

* * *

The evening had gone fantastically. The presentations and speeches went off without a hitch. After dinner and dessert, people started to disburse from their assigned tables and socialize. Plenty were taking advantage of the open bars and dance floor. It was late when Bucky made his way to Steve's table and it wasn't long before the captain gave a subtle jab of his elbow at his friend.

"Hey, eyes up!" Steve whispered lowly. 

Bucky looked out, across the way to see you, cornered by a Rumlow on the prowl. Steve jerked his head to him.

"Are you sure about this?" Bucky asked in a hush, "I mean, I don't want you sulking later about how I tried to steal your girl."

"Better you than, Rumlow." Steve's eyes never left you as Brock leaned in closer, attempting to smoothly run one of his fingers down your bare arm. "I trust you, Buck."

Steve released the breath he was holding when Bucky finally made it to your side.

* * *

Bucky had appeared out of no where, but you had to admit, you were grateful. The gentleman, Brock, as he had introduced himself, was coming on a bit too strong for your liking and Bucky's timing was almost a godsend. He had smoothly asked if he could introduce you to an interested donor; however, he later moved you to the dance floor.

"You look absolutely stunning, Y/n."

He smelled of warm spice with an undertone of leather. His smokey blue eyes were simmering down at you, under the ambient glow of the ballroom. His hand clasped around yours as he positioned you exactly where he wanted. 

"Hmm," you mused quietly as your other hand rested on Bucky's bicep as you stepped to the slow, jazzy beat, "James, this may seem accusatory of me, but I think you just wanted an excuse to get me onto the dance floor."

Bucky chuckled, "I'm that transparent, huh?"

You flashed your pearly whites, "You are and thank you."

He gave you a half-grin, but his sapphire eyes were lit with unspoken words, more than what he uttered simply.

"Anytime, doll."

There was an awed silence between the two of you as you both moved together with flawless precision. It felt so natural and that was also unsettling. You tried not to focus on the feeling of his hand resting at the small of your back or the flex of his arm underneath your fingers. 

In the meantime, Bucky allowed himself a moment more to savor the feel of you, in his embrace. He took in the gentle sweetness of your perfume, the glimmer of your dark eyes, the fullness of your tempting lips. He rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb, before he decided to make one of the hardest decisions of his life.

"Y/n, I know about you and Steve."

Your eyes widened at the quietly confessed words and you stiffened a bit, missing a step. Bucky held a firm hand against you so you wouldn't trip. 

"I'm sorry, James. I didn't want-"

"It's okay, Y/n. I mean, for once in my life, I'm actually envious of Steve. You are..." Bucky tilted his head and clicked his tongue against his cheek. Those light blues roamed appreciatively over you. 

He twirled you then, wanting a brief respite and then drew you in close again. "I've been friends with Steve for a long time. That being said, he's an idiot."

You snickered at that, more loudly than you had intended. You appreciated the candidness. "Yeah, you can say that again." Your browm eyes drifted over to your hand resting on Bucky's arm, "I don't know, James. Steve always seems so distracted, so caught up in appearances, and I can't keep getting hurt while he tries to figure things out."

Bucky swallowed hard at your words, the thought of you being hurt, on multiple occasions, by what you had just said, made his jaw tense. _Fucking Steve._ He bit his lip, wanting to respect his friend, "He's taken by you, for whatever that's worth. It's still not an excuse for him to jerk you around. I've just never seen him so worked up over losing a woman before."

You darted your eyes over to see Steve sitting comfortably with Sharon, "Worked up, huh?"

The dark-haired super soldier pensively licked his lips and gave a brief nod, "Like I said, he's an idiot." Bucky noted the touch of sadness that shadowed over your face. "Hey, tell him to go to hell if you want, but whatever happens, if he hurts you again, I'm on it."

"Can we not talk about Steve anymore? Please? I just want to enjoy this dance with you," you pleaded quietly. You watched as Bucky's eyes softened and a slow smile crept over his handsome visage. He pulled your joined hands up to his lips and pecked against your knuckles. 

"Sure, dollface."

You felt the heat in the apples of your cheeks. "Thank you, James." 

"Bucky," he corrected. "Only my mother called me James. I just... I guess I just wanted to seem sophisticated to you. Put my best foot forward. You are a woman who deserves nothing less."

You couldn't help the amused quirk of your lips. "Bucky," you returned, letting his name drizzle over your palette. 

Bucky blushed a beautiful shade of red as he twirled you again.

* * *

Steve truly didn't mean to stare, but despite his efforts to pay attention to the political banter at his table, his eyes kept trailing over to the dance floor.

You and Bucky appeared comfortable in each other's arms, too comfortable, and even though the last thing he said to Bucky, was that he trusted him, Steve knew he had no right to that claim.

He couldn't hide his discomfort. 

"Is that her?"

Steve heard the question, but he was too wrapped up in witnessing what he knew would be the exact moment he'd lose you to his best friend.

"Steve?"

"Yes?" He blinked and focused his attention to woman next to him.

"Is that her?" Sharon asked again. 

"Is that who?"

Sharon chuckled, amused, "You've been sneaking glances at that woman all night, the one in gold dancing with Bucky."

Steve's teeth edged along his bottom lip.

"She's beautiful. Director Y/l/n, was it?"

"Yes," Steve both acknowledged and answered.

"So, why is Bucky dancing with her instead of you?"

The captain shifted in his seat, "Because, I wouldn't do that do you, Sharon. Not here."

Sharon ran her eyes over Steve's perfectly quaffed hair, down to his lips and leaned in to plant a small, chaste kiss on his cheek. "Good luck, Steve. I mean it and from the looks of it," she tilted her head toward you and Bucky, "you'd better decide what you're going to do fast." She stood up and grabbed her clutch. "I'm going to mingle for a bit."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Bucky sat back down at the table, next to Steve, and poured himself a glass of ice water. He gulped as the man next to him watched him curiously.

"Thank you for helping her," Steve said quietly. 

"You make a decision yet, Steve?" Bucky asked, eyeing the cubes of ice in his drained glass. 

Steve's eyebrows flicked in thought and he shook his head, "I get the impression that I just watched that ship sail away on a dance floor."

Bucky squinted his eyes in consideration. "The way I see it, you've got one last shot, my friend, but the door's closing and I admit, I'm not entirely sad for you about that."

He poured more water into his glass. 

"I tried to put in a good word, but I also told her that if you hurt her again, that I'd be on it." Bucky sipped from his glass and sent a pointed look to his friend. 

Steve nodded his understanding and glanced around the room. Natasha was off, catching up with Clint's wife, and Sharon had found herself with Sam and Maria Hill. You were nowhere to be seen. 

At least Rumlow was busy conversing with Pierce.

"Where did she go?" Steve asked with searching eyes. 

"She said she had a full night and was going to sneak out after some final goodbyes."

Steve hummed his acknowledgement. His eyes fell to the end of the ballroom.

You were gone.

Despite Bucky telling him he still had a shot, Steve couldn't help but think that you had slipped through his fingers for the final time. 

And, he had no one to blame but himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Looks like one more chapter...


	7. The bedroom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve makes a decision and so do you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this long ass chapter. :) I needed to get this done and focus on some other stuff. Probably a lot of mistakes. In the future, if I have time, I may edit a bit more carefully.

You heard the commotion before you saw anything, the clamoring and surprised murmurings. Something was happening on your floor and it seemed to have everyone in an excited mood.

It was Friday and it had been a good day. The event you and your staff had been planning for what seemed like an eternity was a big success. Spirits were high and everyone was eager to have a few days off, thanks to Tony's generosity. You were even in a good mood, despite having to see Steve again last night. You were grateful the evening had been uneventful.

Well, except for your time with Bucky. 

Your mind drifted back to the memory as you toyed your favorite pen between your fingers. You huddled close against the surprisingly sure-footed man. Bucky was just as solid and warm as Steve, but his embrace was a bit more more comforting. You smiled to yourself as you recalled how pink his cheeks flushed when you called him by his nickname for the first time. That time together was unexpected, yet it lingered with you through the night as the remnants of his sultry cologne and stare haunted your dreams.

How was it that two super soldiers had taken a fancy to you?

And, what exactly were you going to do about it?

If you were being perfectly honest with yourself, you still had feelings for Steve. No, it was more than that really. You had been in love with the golden-haired captain for quite some time, and for all the pain and sadness he had caused, you couldn't quite bring yourself to stop loving him. Or, were you in love with the fantasy of him? The idea that maybe someday, after thoroughly using you, he would finally confess that he felt the same way?

You knew better. You did, but you knew that love wasn't always the most rational feeling. You frowned slightly as you slipped further into the night before. While Steve looked happy to see you, he didn't say much. That was to be expected, and for as many times as you've seen or heard about Steve and Sharon, seeing them together still felt like a punch to the gut. They truly did look like the perfect, textbook couple. 

The elation from out in the suite amped up and you finally got up from your desk. 

Food.

A whole lot of food.

You hadn't ordered anything for your team, nor were you aware that lunch was going to be provided. Despite that, there were still uniformed personnel lugging in trays of delicacies - expensive Italian by the looks of it - and your brows furrowed in confusion. You approached the restaurant worker who was directing the others. 

"Excuse me? Could you please tell me who this is for? We weren't expecting catering." 

"Good afternoon, Miss," the attendant greeted, "this order is for a Ms. Y/f&l/n." 

You were even more confused, "Yes, that's me."

"Y/n?" You turned your head to see Steve Rogers walking toward you from the corridor and into your suite. "Great! It made it on time," he said, taking a quick glance at the shuffling of workers. He signed off on the order form that was presented to him, "Thank you again, here's a little something extra," he said, discretely slipping a wad of bills to the caterer. 

You crossed your arms, "Captain Rogers, may I ask what is going on?" You tried to manage your shocked confusion as you stared at the tall blond.

Steve rubbed his hands together and talked to your team, "I know a lot of stress and sleepless hours went into planning last nights event, as well as organizing the internships. I just wanted to say thank you. Please, enjoy. It's the least I could do."

Your team enthusiastically thanked the famous Avenger and while some started to ask the captain for selfies, others started to assemble in an orderly line for the food. You; however, sighed and turned back for your office. You leaned your rear against the hard edge of your desk and waited. Your dark brown eyes settled out into the hall. 

This was the first time Steve had come to see you in the Tower and he brought food for your staff. He also called you by your first name in front of everyone - like he _knew_ you.

This was going to be some grand apology. 

"Y/n, can we talk? Please?"

Steve's low voice startled you and you found him leaning in your door frame, arms crossed, which did little to hide the girth of his arms. His handsome face was anxious as he waited for your response. You gestured your silent agreement.

Steve shoved himself off the frame and nodded his thanks, shutting your frosted door behind him. He sat in one of your guest chairs. His eyes trailed over you, over your [high-waisted, multicolored pants](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0684/2619/products/bottoms-safina-fitted-high-waisted-pants-yellow-pink-patchwork-1_1000x.jpg?v=1548451543) and your simple black turtleneck. He couldn't help it. Being around you always had him wanting to take in the entirety of you. 

You had kept the gold jewels in your hair. 

His mind wandered to last night. The vision that you were, your beauty encompassed in gold. He could hardly keep his eyes off you, from the tiny jewels that were artfully scattered over your dark hair, to the way your dress hugged and bloomed around your figure, making you appear like the flower that you were. You were like a goddess with a bronzed sheen that highlighted your creamy, brown skin. And, even as he watched you from afar, he knew you had worn his favorite scent - the one with the soft, hint of vanilla that lingered like a playful touch. 

He couldn't stop thinking about you, even after the night had long ended. 

Steve regretted not stepping in to save you on his own. Maybe then, that dance could have been his. 

It was just as well. He doubted that he would have been able to make it look professional. He would have held you too closely. His hand would have rested too low. That entire ballroom would have known exactly how he felt about you. 

So, Steve did not ask you and instead, when an opportunity had presented itself, he sent Bucky. He regretted it the entire night. 

"You wanted to talk?" You planted your palms behind you and tilted your head. You could see the conflict in Steve as he gathered his thoughts. 

"Y/n," Steve looked up, his piercing blue eyes a whirlwind as he tried to decide how to start the conversation. "I'm a fucking idiot and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for using you, for not considering your feelings. I'm sorry for hurting you." He dropped his head. "You were right about me."

You nibbled at your lip, "Right about what, Steve?"

Steve sighed, "About being jealous of Bucky."

You shifted against your desk and considered for a moment, "Why?"

"Bucky's persona isn't crafted or regulated like mine is. The 'Winter Soldier' doesn't have to be the perfect depiction of the American Dream. Bucky is," Steve gave a waved his head in thought, "he's free for the most part. Free to pursue his own interest. Free to openly like and love whomever. When that focus fell to _you_ ," the tip of his tongue ran over his bottom lip, "from having spent nearly a year getting to know you... of course I'd be jealous."

You crossed your arms over your chest and and lowered your head. The strands of your braids fell over your shoulders and you blinked your dark lashes. "You don't know me, Steve. Even after all this time." You didn't miss the expression of surprise that fell over the golden Avenger's face. "You know my body, yes, but really, what do you know about me?" You shook your head, "You were right too. Even though I had feelings for you, even though I _fell in love with you_ , we were never together." 

You glanced up at the ceiling, _fuck it_ , you thought to yourself. If you might as well be completely honest so you could end this chapter of your life once and for all. "I've thought about that over these past few weeks. About how exciting it was at first to have Captain America, himself fucking my brains out on booty calls - and you felt good Steve, _really_ good, but," you pointed to your heart as those hauntingly beautiful blues seemed to stare into your soul, "I. Deserve. Better. Good fucking aside, I deserve to be loved. I want to be loved, freely. I want a _relationship,_ Steve, and I can't get that from you."

You exhaled slowly, "As for Bucky, I'm not blind. I know he's interested in me, but I don't even know if I would even entertain that. I know he's your best friend and that's too... messy."

Steve's stare stayed on you for a moment as he took in your words, your confession, your admission of feelings that had long been unreturned. He planted his hands on his knees and stood to his full height, moving toward you with slow, tentative steps.

His eyes bore into you as his hand reached out for yours, pulling it gently away from your chest. He cradled it in his. "Y/n," he whispered. His fingers glided over the softness of your brown skin. "I know that I don't deserve anything more from you," he swallowed, "but I want to try. I want to try this with you."

Your lips parted as you took in Steve's words, "Steve..."

"I'm serious, Y/n. This whole charade ends today. I want to get know you."

Your heart was racing and as much as you had dreamed of this moment, you didn't quite trust it. You shifted in your stance, "Steve," you tried again. 

Steve could hear the hesitation in your voice and squeezed your hand softly. "Just think about it. If you want to come up later, I'd love to see you." He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers. 

He released your hand and stepped back. "I have to go. There's something I have to take care of, but thank you for letting me talk." He opened your door, "It's your decision, Y/n." 

You released the breath you were holding, "Steve?"

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you for feeding my team today."

Steve paused in your doorway, "You're worth it."

* * *

Steve blew out the air from his puffed cheeks and leaned his head back against the elevator wall. 

"Hey. I'm with you," came the soft feminine voice next to him. 

Sharon. 

Bless her.

"Thank you, Sharon."

When Steve had told her that he was going to go back to talk to Pierce today, she had agreed to accompany him. He tilted his head down toward the slender woman next to him. "You don't have to do this, Sharon."

Sharon gave a small smile, "I know, but I'm still here."

The lift doors opened to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s guest floor of the Tower and Steve held out his hand for his former lover. They made their way silently down to the Secretary's office, nodding to the receptionist just outside. Steve rounded the corner to see Pierce finishing up a conversation with a leaving Rumlow. 

Brock gave a quick assessing glance to the captain and a polite nod to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent as he left, "Sir, I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Perfect. This shouldn't take long," Pierce responded. He offered a welcoming hand into his office. "Captain Rogers. Agent Carter. What can I do for you?"

Steve poised himself in front of the secretary's desk as the other man sat down. "Sir, with all due respect, Agent Carter and I have both agreed that it would be best to go about our separate ways, in terms of anything outside of a professional relationship. Personally speaking, I am more than willing to assist S.H.I.E.L.D., in any capacity, related to preserving freedom and protecting the innocent; however, I can no longer allow this agency to govern over the personal affairs of my choosing." Steve lifted his chin a little higher, "That is too much to ask."

Pierce squinted his eyes and pushed out his lips in a quiet, calculative look. He lifted his eyebrow and turned to the woman next to Steve. "And, this is what you want as well, Agent Carter?"

Sharon gave a sharp nod, "Yes, sir. After talking with Steve and doing some reflecting on my career, I feel that there may be more opportunities I could pursue on my own, instead of being attached to the hip of Captain America, so to speak."

Pierce flicked his eyebrows, "Well, it seems you two have settled the matter then. Alright fine; S.H.I.E.L.D. will respect your wishes. Just try to keep this down and give us a few days to put this out. Could we agree on that?"

Steve nodded, keeping his eyes on Pierce, "Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir," Sharon agreed. 

"Good," Pierce said with a stiff nod. 

Steve relaxed his posture a bit, "Thank you, sir. We won't take up any more of your time."

"Until next time, Captain Rogers. I'm headed back to Washington at the beginning of the week and I doubt we'll speak again before that. Tell Stark I always appreciate the New York hospitality."

Steve nodded his head and extended his hand once again for Sharon to take the lead.

"Agent Carter?" the Secretary called.

Sharon stopped at the threshold. "Sir?"

"I have an opening for a special agent back in D.C. with a covert tactical unit. Is that something in which you might be interested?" Pierce asked.

Sharon's brown eyes widened, "Sir? Wow... that sounds like an incredible opportunity."

Pierce nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Thank you, Sir."

It was a silent walk back to the elevators and Steve pressed the call button to ascend. "Special Agent Carter, huh? That has a certain ring to it."

Sharon smiled. "I can't believe it. I wonder what it entails?"

"I guess we'll find out," Steve said as they entered the lift. 

* * *

Rumlow tapped the green folder against his palm before handing it over to his superior. "This is the file you wanted."

"Thank you, Brock," Pierce replied, sitting up in his chair and fishing in his pocket for his readers.

"Is there anything else you need, sir?"

Pierce slipped on his glasses, "Actually there is. I want to know everything there is to know about Director Y/l/n."

"Who?" Rumlow asked.

"Ms. Y/l/n. She organized last night's event. You were chatting with her before Sergeant Barnes interrupted. Pretty girl, gold dress."

Rumlow's hardened face lit up in recognition, "Oh, yeah. Sure. I can put together a file. Eyes and ears?"

Pierce shook his head, "No, not right now. The file will do."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Steve opened the fridge and pulled out a domestic beer, tossing the metal cap over into a glass bowl. He caught the time on the microwave. 6:30pm. He knew that you often worked late, especially at the end of the week, and with it finally being the start of your vacation, it would be even later.

But still, he wasn't even sure if you would come up to see him.

"I have to admit, Rogers, I didn't think you had it in you," Sam said from the common room, "but I'm proud of you, man. Those tunes hit differently don't they? They make you think about what kind of woman you want to have."

Steve took a deep swig of his beer and sat down on the leather sectional, a ways from Sam. "I'm not in the clear, yet Sam. I have no idea if she's coming."

"But, you still stood up to Pierce. You can make your own way now, whether or not things work out with Y/n."

Steve swiped his pink tongue over his lips, enjoying a dawdling drop, "Yeah. I do have to say, I feel lighter."

"You only made it this far because I lit a fire under your ass," Bucky said dryly. He was sprawled over his favorite, large chair. "I'm telling you Steve, if you do manage to salvage something with Y/n, and fuck it up again, that's it for you. She's too much of a catch."

Steve cocked his eyebrow and examined Bucky in his chair. He cut his gaze away and took another long sip.

"And, Sharon? Do you think she'll take the reassignment if offered?" Sam asked

The captain leaned his elbows onto his knees, "Yeah, I do. She wants to advance and she doesn't need me in order to do that. She deserves to shine in her own light."

Sam nodded his head, "Well, we'll have to celebrate if she does. Buy her a couple rounds at Murphy's to see her off."

Bucky craned his neck to peer over his shoulder, toward the open hallway, "Sounds like someone's coming."

* * *

You gripped the strap of your purse tight, letting blind faith lead you as you made your way down the hall. The last time you were here, you were rushing in the opposite direction, sobbing as you tried to get as far away from Captain America as possible. Now your steps were leading you back to him. You had told yourself, after Steve had left, that you would be willing to go and talk, this time sharing your own thoughts to his offer.

Truthfully, you still didn't know the right answer.

The opening of the common room was approaching and you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, searching for the inner strength to find the right words, ask the right questions, and act on a level head. Yet, once you turned into the shared kitchen, and your eyes fell across the room, things started to fall into place. 

Bucky was already looking in your direction, the chime from the elevator had given you away. You offered him a small smile and he returned it, though the lopsided grin favored him far more. But when Steve's eyes finally lifted to yours, the look of true surprise that fell over his chiseled face gave you butterflies. He stood, almost immediately upon seeing you and offered a relieved grin.

"Y/n." 

With his long legs, Steve was over in seconds, standing tall in front of you. Those ocean eyes were a flurry over your face, nervously soaking you in as if he hadn't seen you in ages. You dropped your eyes, trying to distract yourself from the intensity of his stare and looked at the small patch of stitching at the collar of his sweatshirt.

"Can we talk?" You asked quietly. You lifted your eyes back to his.

Steve's features softened, "Of course." He grabbed your hand and started to lead you toward his wing of the suite. You didn't quite get away without hearing from the other two observers.

"Hey, Y/n, you did a great job last night," Sam cheered. "Had a blast and looked good doing it."

You smiled, "Thank you Sam. Thank you for trusting me with your vanity."

Sam shrugged, "If the black tux fits."

"Hey doll face, remember what I told you last night."

You nodded to Bucky, who was eyeing you quietly, sitting quite comfortably in that plush chair. _Jesus does he really have to look that smoldering, spread out like that?_ You thought to yourself. Wait, that chair... THAT CHAIR. You felt your cheeks warm and you quickly darted your eyes away. 

"Oh my god," you whispered. 

Steve snorted and squeezed your hand, "I wiped it down."

Bucky scrunched up his face, "Oh, seriously, Steve? You're a fucking asshole!"

Sam busted out laughing and clutched his chest. 

"Bye, _doll face,_ " Steve taunted to his friend as he led you toward the stairs.

"At least I danced with her first!" Bucky shouted. 

"Stop flirting with my girl!" Steve belted back from the top of the stairs. 

You tilted your head and raised a dark brow, "Your girl?"

"Well, maybe," Steve opened the door to his room and ushered you inside. "Please, let me," he held out his hand, assisting with your purse and coat as he draped them over the chair.

You took a moment to glance around the bedroom, now that it was a little more illuminated. Apparently, Steve Rogers was a minimalist. He had the basics, a large bed that was perfectly made, a couple dressers, some book cases, a pair of trainers. Two or three little, vintage mementos of Brooklyn were scattered here and there. But, for the most part, the room, toned in white and navy, was impeccably clean and vacant. You did notice his shield, or a replica, stashed in a corner, leaning against a piece of furniture. 

Steve Rogers was a simple man.

"Would you care to sit?" Steve asked.

You nodded and Steve offered you the foot of the bed while he sat in the chair across the room, keeping a safe, respectable distance. You shared a moment of silence, each of you uncertain of how the exchange would be. Both of you on the edge of plunging more into your feelings, your vulnerability.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come."

You blinked slowly at the slow rumble of his words, "I wasn't sure either." 

"I know this is your time to talk, Y/n. I know you came here to speak your mind, but I want you to know something before you do." Steve briefly lowered his forehead and then gave you pointed look. "Sharon and I are no longer a couple. We met with the Secretary this morning, _together_ , and called it off."

Your face twisted slightly in confusion, not quite believing what you were hearing, "What? How... Can you even do that?"

Steve leaned back, "I basically told them that they couldn't have that part of my life."

Your eyes widened a bit, "And, they were okay with that?"

"Well, if not, I guess they can fire me," Steve chuckled.

"What about Sharon? Is she alright?"

"Yeah. She is and will be. She will always be my friend and in my life, but she and I aren't meant to be together as a couple." The corner of Steve's mouth pulled up, "Thanks for asking about her."

You started to fidget with your hands and your felt your palms begin to sweat. "Why did you to that? Why did you risk upsetting people?" 

Steve stood up then and walked slowly over to you, taking a knee at your legs. He reached to cradle your hand in his. "I told you earlier, Y/n. I want to try with you." He swallowed, brushing his thick fingers over you. "But, now I need to know what you want."

"What happened to you these past two weeks? What changed your mind?" You still couldn't grasp Steve's change of course.

Steve gave a stiffled laugh and raised his eyebrows, "Well, seeing you dancing with Bucky was pretty motivating." He noticed your shoulders dropping and he stroked your hand a little more, "but before that, Sam threatened to beat me up."

You laughed then, a full one, your head fell back and your smile bloomed across your face. Steve was entranced. He stood and sat next to you. 

"But, he also gave me some music to listen to. A playlist. He said it would help me sort through my feelings. Provide some clarity."

You dropped your ear toward your shoulder and leaned back on the palm of your hands, "Did it?" You asked, amused.

Steve gave a smouldering look, "I think so."

"Hmm," you contemplated.

Steve's crystal blues lingered over your lips. God, he wanted to kiss you, to lose himself in the sweet caress of your mouth over his, but his goal tonight was something much more important, much more enriching.

"Tell me something about yourself, Y/n." 

You gave a shy smile, "Like what?" 

"Anything," came the deep, breathy reply.

So, you did, again and again, because Steve kept asking. 

* * *

After a late dinner of take out, you were back in Steve's room. It was nearly two in the morning and the exhaustion of the past few weeks had finally caught up with you. "I should go," you said, trying to stifle a yawn. "Thank you for tonight, Steve. This was nice." 

Steve watched with hesitant eyes as you moved for your things. He wanted to engage you all night, but after the last time he was physically with you, he went overboard and hurt you. He was scared you'd push him away.

"Can I kiss you?"

You looked to Steve. You know he had been careful with you all night, treating you like a delicate flower that he was too afraid to touch. But, as your own eyes fell to his plump bottom lip, you knew you wanted to feel the soft puff of his breath over your mouth as he tasted you. 

"Yes," you whispered.

Steve peered into your dark brown eyes, the lights in his room making them sparkle like the milky way itself. He leaned down to capture your lips. He lifted his palm, slipping it under your cascade of braids and tilted your head. He parted after a minute, leaning against your forehead with closed eyes. 

"Stay?"

You opened your eyes to see Steve peering back at you.

"We don't have to have sex. Just... stay?"

Your teeth glided over your lip as you stood on the edge of the cliff, staring at the bottomless seas of blue and speckled green.

"Okay," you replied, angling in your nose against his once more. 

You closed your eyes and made a leap of faith.

* * *

You could feel the rays of the morning light on your face as you wiggled in your sleep. Your hands smoothed over the sheets and settled under the plush pillow, propping up your head a little more. You inhaled deeply, comfortably surrounded by the subtle warm mix of citrus and spice. You blinked your eyes open.

"Good morning."

A slow smile dragged across your face and you pulled yourself upright. You felt the long pony tale of your bound locks bump against your back. Your nose crinkled as you looked at the man sitting across the room.

"What time is it?"

Steve didn't answer right away. He was trying to capture the vision in front of him. "Nine? Nine-thirty?" 

You groaned and got up from the bed, the hem of Steve's white t-shirt falling over your thighs. You padded softly to the bathroom. 

"Since this was our first sleepover, I got you a toothbrush from the kiosk and picked up your gym bag from your office. It's in there." Steve said, trailing his eyes after you. 

"Thank you," you replied, entering the side room. You had showered the night before, using some of his body wash, and accepted a shirt from Steve to sleep in. He was true to his word. You both had cuddled close, despite feeling hints of his arousal during the night. It was the first time you two had shared that kind of intimacy. 

You brushed your teeth and washed your face, putting on a thin layer of moisturizer afterward. When you stepped back out, you took a moment to admire Steve in his shirtless glory.

"Your bed is so comfortable. I could stay in it all day," you said with another stretch.

The rising white, cotton fabric gave Steve a teasing glimpse of your bare, shapely legs. "I wouldn't be opposed to that. You look good in it." 

"Oh yeah?" You sauntered back over to his bed, exaggerating your hips, and crawled on top of the navy sheets. You held yourself up on your elbows.

Steve stood up, hardly embarrassed by the obvious, growing bulge in his gray sweats. "Yeah." He moved over to the side of the bed and peered down at you. His lust-driven hunger for you was apparent in his heavy lidded eyes, "You know, as good as you look in my shirt, I'm hoping that I can see you out of it." He arched a brow.

You mimicked his flirty gesture, "I think that could be arranged."

You watched as Steve crawled onto the bed, leaning in to capture your lips in a fiery kiss. The drag of his fingertips feathered along the silky span of your legs. His touch climbed higher, to the bottom of your shirt. You could feel his hesitation as his fingers stopped just shy of your mound. You lifted a hand to touch his bare shoulder. "Please," you whispered against those intoxicating pink lips and you parted your legs to give him access. 

Steve pulled his mouth away from yours and nuzzled your jaw as his fingers made their way to your slick core. He groaned as he relished in your slick, spreading your wetness up and down your folds. He toyed with you tenderly, as he nipped at column of your neck, soaking in the tiny gasps that escaped your lips. 

"I'll never get tired of those cute little noises you make," Steve teased. He continued to fondle you gently, guiding you closer and closer to bliss. Soon, you were gasping that sweet tune of release as you melted in his embrace.

When you had calmed from your high, he leaned over to the small drawer next to his bed and pulled out a condom. He handed it to you and laid back onto his mattress, propping his head with pillows.

"You're in control, Y/n, whatever you want to take, it's yours." 

As you sat up onto your knees, you could see Steve kicking off his pants out of the corner of your eye. He laid down next to you, all six-foot, one of him in his naked, perfected glory. Your brown eyes traveled over his solid form, not only appreciating the contours of his muscles, but the scattering of scars from physical battles long fought. You swung a leg over his narrow hips and straddled the adonis belt of his frame, placing your palms on his stomach. His milky skin was smooth under your touch and you slowly traced your fingertips up toward his chest. 

Steve followed your stare as your eyes roamed over him. Your close, focused observation of him arousing him more and more. He felt the length of him press against your ass.

"This is hardly fair." Steve complained with a teasing smirk.

When your hands fell to the bottom of your shirt, he curled his arm under his head to enjoy the unwrapping of his favorite present. As his shirt lifted from your frame, revealing the richly brown expanse of skin he longed to feel, he couldn't help but be in awe. Steve placed his palms on your legs and traced along the shape of your body. He followed the wide curve of your hips, over and around the dips of your waist, and slid his hands to your front to cup your breasts. You reached back to release your hair from the elastic, allowing yourself to be completely free.

"You're so fucking sexy," Steve whispered drunkenly, brushing aside some of the woven strands to thumb over your hardened nipples. 

You were already under the influence that was Steve and you lifted a bit and reached down, between your legs, to grip him. You carefully tore open the packed in your hand and pulled the condom over him, and while you tried your best not to tease him too much with your rolling fingers, you didn't miss the stiffled grunts coming from the man underneath your legs. You did not break the eye contact as you positioned yourself and gingerly impaled yourself with his cock.

Steve hissed through clenched teeth as he watch himself disappear inside of you, the heat and tightness of your body a sweet, torturous serenity. He tried to calm his excitement as you forced yourself to take him - _all of him_ \- and he leaned deep into the pillow with the satisfied groan as he finally hilted.

"Shit," you panted, your hands trembled on his stomach as you tried to keep still, to give yourself a moment to adjust to Steve. 

Steve skimmed over the outside of your thighs, "You feel so good, Y/n."

"You do too," came your whispered reply. You tentatively began to move your hips and stared into those soft, blue eyes. Your lips parted and you settled into a smooth grind, using Steve's body to seek out those deliciously sweet spots. Your tits bounced as you started to ride him more steadily.

Steve carefully sat up and braced a hand on your ass, securing you into his lap as you continued undulating rhythmically over him. He leaned his forehead against your collar bone and shivered as your hands caressed over the tops of his shoulders and through his hair. He listened to the rapid beat of your heart, the sticky, wet slide of you over him, the gasps and whimpers of your pleasure. 

"Fuck," Steve groaned against your skin, trying to hold back as you used him. He heard the change in your breathing and he lifted his head. He wanted to see you, and for you to see him, eye to eye, as you tumbled into the intoxicating euphoria, together. You were close, so close, and so was he. He noticed your eyes growing heavy with focus.

"Look at me, Y/n. Let me see those beautiful brown eyes when you cum," Steve encouraged. "I know your close, let me feel you."

You struggled to look at him, but you managed to find him in the fog of your building ecstasy. You cried out and Steve's arms wrapped around you tight. Your body squeezed and spasmed over him hard, flooding him with your release as you drowned in those cerulean pools. 

Steve gripped your hips firmly as he ground you hard over him for a few more strokes. His entire body, flushed and red, pulled taunt as he too found his release. His chest rose and fell steadily as he stared at you in reverence, your head was slumped forward as you panted, your face was curtained by your hair. He drew his hand up to lift your chin with a knuckle and leaned in to kiss the supple pillows of your lips. 

He scooped you in his arms and turned you to lay on your side. He carefully pulled off and tied the rubber, tossing it on the floor for the time being. He pulled you close against his chest and dipped his head down to kiss the ball of your shoulder. 

"This is one of the best mornings I've had in a long time," he murmured against your mahogany skin.

"Same," you returned with a small grin. 

"Be mine?" Steve asked, resting a hand at the curve of your waist. 

Your eyes surveyed over his morning stubble that cast a shadow over his pale face. Your teeth planted in your lip and you nodded, "I will try with you, Steve. We will try together."

Steve searched over your face, your beautiful dark brown eyes, and returned your nod, "Okay."

You blinked, letting your eyes settle over the plains of Steve's chest, to his heart. "I've been curious about something."

Steve continued to stroke the sexy bend at your torso, "Hmm?"

"What was on Sam's playlist?"

Steve chuckled and his cheeks flushed a beautiful rose, "Let's see he made me start with [Charlene](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aJ0nqnUhDgk)," his deep voice began, "[Brown Sugar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VaV7oCyFXaY), [I Want You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2QR5oFqJMg), [Nice & Slow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DbtLIUPRWnI), so many," he scrunched his face in thought, "[What's Your Fantasy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uwEEHuU9Pk4) was pretty racy, but it gave me some interesting ideas."

You laughed at that and then felt a tingle between your legs as you recalled the song and imagined Steve fantasizing about various role plays. "Is that so?"

"Mmm hmm," Steve rumbled.

"Did you have a favorite?"

The back of Steve's fingers drifted over the flare of your hip. He followed the movement with his eyes and then returned to yours. "Dru Hill. [Beauty](https://youtu.be/RcP49VPzp7w)."

Your held Steve's gaze, a bit surprised by the selection. You knew the song well, it was one of your favorite slow jams from the 90s. It always made you wonder if someone would ever feel that same, intimate declaration for you. 

"Sing it for me?"

Steve blinked his long lashes. He wasn't a great singer, but he could hold his own with a few tunes. He gave you a sexy, crooked grin and started at the chorus, "Walks by me every day, her and love are the same, the woman that's stolen my heart, and Beauty is her name," he felt you snuggle in closer to him and watched as you closed your eyes. 

Stroking up the silky length of your back, Steve continued, "I'm hoping I can make you mine, before another man steals your heart, and once this Beauty is mine, I swear we will never be apart..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with this story, which is now overtaken my others for the most words. I never thought that a brief one-shot drabble idea would spiral into this. I hope that you Steve fans got a nice fix and I hope that you Bucky fans had your moment as well. I tried to play nice with everyone, but as this was my first MCU fic and I crush hard on Steve, he had to get the girl. :) 
> 
> I enjoyed writing this! If time permits, there will be others in the future. I'm already tossing around an idea to expand on this particular reader/Steve relationship.
> 
> This was a personal endeavor that I wanted to see through and I'm glad that I was able to make that happen. I wanted this story and the cover pics to be special for black readers, who don't often get to see themselves as the "default." I wasn't purposefully trying to exclude to offend anyone; however, I did want to craft a small space of fantasy because we too, love our dear Captain, and that reader representation is not as readily reflected. 
> 
> Take care. Be safe. Peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, apologies for grammatical errors and the povs being all over the place. I'm not a professional writer, just a daydreamer.
> 
> Sorry if the cover images look disoriented. I can only edit from my obsolete phone. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> t: spectre_ro


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